In Weakness or in Strength
by GingerSarahRebecca
Summary: TASM2 Verse: Hayley Carmichael is a nurse at the Ravencroft institute, used to treating the criminally insane and downright creepy. But then someone arrives who turns her world upside down; the charismatic Harry Osborn. Can Hayley handle the monster within or will she give into the devil's temptations - what if the Goblin has his own agenda! Rated M just in case! - Harry/OC
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Spiderman or any of the characters within the franchise, just my OC.**

**Warning: Small substance abuse in this chapter**

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Hayley had heard his name many times, heck, he owned his own company, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine getting entangled with the likes of Harry Osborn.

Especially after that night. The night when she lost Gwen, when Harry had fallen from grace and became the Goblin - the night Spiderman disappeared. Seeing their battle on top of the clock tower televised on the news had sent chills down Hayley's spine. Watching the Goblin dropping Gwen from the sky and Spiderman diving to save her had made Hayley scream out in horror.

Discovering Gwen had died tore her apart inside; watching her childhood friend laid to rest in the graveyard was enough to make Hayley question whether she should continue working for the Ravencroft Institute, which was funded by OsCorp. She remembered hearing about that poor man, Max Dillon, who had turned ice blue from the electricity that ran through his body. He had been experimented on and tortured by one of the scientist at Ravencroft. Hayley worked as a nurse and assistant councillor for rehabilitating and treating the incarcerated inmates, so she had only heard about the Electro incident from staff gossip. Sometimes working with criminals, with these villains, it made Hayley question whether they deserved a second chance. Hearing about the people they had killed always made her blood run cold. As it was, Hayley had to have a male guard present, sometimes two, when she would medicate and treat the inmates. Many were violent and having a young woman nearby sometimes triggered their psychosis.

A week after Gwen's death, Hayley sat at her desk in the nurses station sorting through the multi-coloured pills that she had to administer daily. It was a task she had practically perfected into a memorised art, knowing exactly what pills each patient needed, what combinations and at what dosage. Tying her auburn hair into a tight high pony, a necessary style when a few of the prisoners liked to sniff and grab loose hair, Hayley hummed a tuneless melancholy song. Her hands began to shake as she loosened the cap on the bottle marked 'Amitriptyline'. A single tear slid down her face as her thoughts drifted to Gwen. Looking around the room and seeing that none of her co-workers had arrived yet, she plucked a shiny pill from the bottle and quickly swallowed it. That will numb the pain for the rest of my shift, Hayley thought. Wiping away the stray tear from her cheek, Hayley continued the mind-numbing task of placing pills in labelled little white cups.

Five minutes later Hayley heard a horrendous yelling coming from one of the treatment rooms, a noise she had never heard within the walls of Ravencroft. It pricked up the hairs on the back of her neck, causing her to drop the pill bottle in fright. Rising from her chair, Hayley could only imagine that whomever the yell belonged to, well, they must be in serious pain.

There was a commotion outside, the sound of people running, orders being shouted, alarms bells ringing. But nothing could penetrate the sound of that guttural screaming. Suddenly, Cadence, a superior nurse burst through the door of the nurse's office.

"Quick Hayley, grab a syringe and one of the strongest sedatives we have, and get it to Doctor Scott in Room 136. STAT!" Cadence screeched before turning on her heel and racing off to the aforementioned room. Hayley stood still in shock at the sudden change in pace of her mundane morning before another deafening howl caused her to move with urgency. Snatching the necessary tools from a cabinet, Hayley raced down corridor after corridor, quickly coming nearer and nearer to Room 136, the source of that chilling sound.

Finally reaching the West wing, Hayley had to fight through a crowd of guards with guns and riot gear before she could enter the room in question. What kind of person would need guards this heavily armed, Hayley thought, because Ravencroft guards usually only use electrically charged batons. Something must be seriously wrong in Room 136.

Upon entering the room, Hayley could see five guards with guns pointed at a screaming man who was strapped down to a medical bed. Hayley didn't have time to properly inspect the patient who was jerking against his restraints. Her mind went to a professional trance blocking out all the noise and disorder. Extracting the strong sedative from its vial, the surrounding doctors urged Hayley to quicken her actions. With the correct amount in the syringe, two doctors made a grab for the patient's toned arm, trying to hold it straight even though he resisted. Hayley's eyes searched for an appropriate vein. She boldly touched the man's arm to add pressure around the selected vein.

The man stopped moving.

Seizing her chance, Hayley pierced the skin and administered the sedative. Looking up from the arm she had just plunged the syringe into, Hayley came face to face with a creature whose skin was a sickly shade of green, whose piercing blue eyes stared right at her. Giving one last moaning wail, the man calmed down, offering Hayley a creepy yet charming smirk, exposing his discoloured cracked teeth.

What kind of person indeed.

It was the Goblin himself… Harry Osborn.

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**Hope you all enjoyed this first chapter! This is my first ever fanfiction - finally plucked up the courage to publish something! I really loved The Amazing Spiderman 2 when I watched it and fell in love with Dane DeHaan's portrayal of the Green Goblin. I'm a sucker for the bad guys!**

**Please review and let me know what you think :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Spider-Man or any of the characters within the franchise, just my OC.**

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Hayley stared in fear at the man who had killed Gwen. Seeing the Goblin on her TV was one thing, especially when the news helicopter couldn't zoom in and capture a detailed look of Harry's transformation. But seeing him in the flesh was more terrifying than she could have possibly imagined.

Harry continued to look at the young nurse, memorising every blemish, drinking in her pale complexion, the way those horrendous strip lights above made her hair glisten like copper. Her vivid green eyes were wide like a rabbit caught in headlights; he detected fear. Good, he thought, his smirk widening making his lips curl. Although she looked well kept, he noticed that her pupils were a tad too small, that her eyes appeared bloodshot from lack of sleep. It was like looking into a mirror, for Harry recognised the physical effects of recreational drug abuse.

_How interesting._

The girl looked a little young to be a fully qualified nurse; maybe she was an intern or grad-student. If he had seen her outside of Ravencroft, Harry would of thought college student over a trained professional. Maybe she hadn't been in her job long. As it was, she wasn't behaving very professionally just standing there like a scared mouse – even the models he'd slept with had more gall. Though, she had touched him when no one else would…

Without taking his eyes from Hayley, he realised that the other doctors and guards surrounding him were silent, watching their little moment unfold. Not one to disappoint with theatrics, Harry started to whistle nonchalantly. The eerie high-pitched chirping was a stark contrast to the tension filled silence from before. If people weren't paying attention before, they were now.

No one knew how to respond; Dr Scott tried to catch Hayley's attention, the stupid girl was over staying her welcome. A firm cough from Dr Scott broke the spell; Hayley's eyes left those piercing blue orbs before turning her head towards her superior for further instruction. Like a shot, Harry moved his free arm and snatched at Hayley's tiny wrist. He dug his long yellow fingernails into her delicate skin, breaking the top layer as he brought her closer.

"LET THE NURSE GO OSBORN"

"RELEASE HER OR WE WILL SHOOT, I REPEAT WE WILL SHOOT YOU"

"Why isn't the sedative working Doctor Scott?"

"STAY CALM MISS, WE'LL MAKE THAT SON OF A BITCH LET YOU GO"

"It must be the venom he injected himself with at OsCorp, I heard it had regenerative properties…"

"But it was the strongest dose we have!"

"I'LL COUNT TO THREE MR OSBORN; WE WILL HURT YOU UNLESS YOU RELEASE THE NURSE"

Hayley started to shake from the biting pain on her wrist. Even though everyone in Room 136 was going crazy, she could only focus on Harry Osborn. His whistling had become louder and more piercing to combat the guards and doctors' shouting orders. Hayley was beginning to think she preferred him screaming. Little droplets of blood were already pooling on her skin beneath the Goblin's claw like fingernails. Hayley knew that he had penetrated deep enough into the flesh to leave scars. More to add to the list_,_ Hayley thought morbidly.

"ONE…."

He only wanted to feel her again, to touch something so deceptively pure and innocent looking. Harry wondered why, out of all the nurses and doctors in the room they had asked her to deliver the sedative. A sedative that was slowly working its way around his body; he could feel it entering his system now. Surely there were more experienced people? They were scared. So scared that they let a mere expendable girl sedate him. They should be scared. _Everyone_ should be afraid of the Goblin, of Harry Osborn.

"TWO…"

Slowly, Harry released his nails, but kept a firm grip on Hayley's arm. She let out a shaky breath as the pain started to intensify now that the pressure had been alleviated. As Hayley began to pull away, the gnarled green hand shifted its hold to the index and middle finger of her left hand. The two fingers that had touched Harry earlier. Touched him when no one else would...

"THREE!"

Harry was about to let go, growing weary from the tranquilizer. Then, with the last of his strength, he twisted the two delicate fingers he held and began to laugh upon hearing them snap. Hayley shrieked in pain, stumbling away from Harry. The last thing she saw before being ushered away by Nurse Cadence, was the guards in riot gear slowly descend on the man, no, creature that lay snickering on the bed in Room 136.

When he was free, the Goblin thought, she would be the first to die.

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**WOW! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and added my story to their alert list. Literally could not believe it, I have a big smile on my face! **

**Just to give a little background info to were this story is heading - I'm going to be filling in the blanks of Harry's time at Ravencroft, and will ultimately get to the point in TASM2 were he is visited by The Gentleman in his cell. The story will carry on after this, but I really want to explore the psychological process of Harry and his Goblin transformation. So there is going to be a lot of Ravencroft before the ending of TASM2 - hopefully I weave it all together seamlessly! **

**Also, as a new author, I am really aware of not making my OC a MarySue character; I promise you she has depth! There will be a romance between Harry and Hayley, but the monsters inside them both are going to make it a bumpy ride!**

**Hope you all enjoyed Chapter 2! Any feedback is gratefully accepted :)**


	3. Chapter 3

******I do not own Spider-Man or any of the other characters in the Marvel franchise - just my OC.**

**This fic is rated M for strong language, prescription drug abuse, violent themes, and eventual sexual content in later chapters– you have all been warned!**

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Luckily, the break had been clean, and after having the bones reset and bandaged tightly, Hayley was sent home from work. Her co-worker Gillian had graciously told Hayley that she would cover her day shifts for the next two days, as Nurse Cadence wanted Hayley to only return when she had fully rested. Hayley really couldn't afford to miss work but she hadn't had time off since she began working at Ravencroft over a year ago.

She reluctantly returned home to her apartment complex in down town New York. After loosing her parents when she was young, Hayley had been given to her Grandma, with the two of them living together until she passed away shortly after Hayley had started at Ravencroft. Although her Grandma's apartment was sparsely furnished and cheap to maintain, Hayley often struggled to pay rent but the landlord new Granny Carmichael, so kindly allowed Hayley to be late on her payments. After all, that girl had gone through enough in the eyes of the landlord.

After climbing five flights of stairs, due to the lift always being out of order, Hayley final reached her apartment. She stumbled to get the keys out of her bag with her injured left hand and arm. Eventually, after much cursing from Hayley, she managed to get her front door open and entered her quiet and bare home. Now Hayley was truly alone.

Absentmindedly flicking on the television for some background noise, Hayley slowly removed her Ravencroft uniform before heading towards her small bathroom. Staring at her reflection, she carefully undid her hair trying not to aggravate her bandaged fingers. Showering was going to be difficult. The mirror had never been kind to Hayley; sure her favourite and must defining feature was her poker straight luxurious ginger hair, but that was about it. Hayley could only ever see the negatives in her appearance, feeling awkward in her own skin. Her build was around 5 foot 6 with long and willowy legs, but was on the lower end of a healthy weight for her age due to the constant medication she'd been on for ten years.

Wetting a hand towel she washed away the crusted dry blood on her arm where the Goblin had struck her. Five angry half moon red marks now marred her wrist. At least these scars weren't the worst on Hayley's body and could be easily covered by makeup, unlike the others. Her eyes flicked to her bony shoulders were creamy skin was disturbed by an unnatural rouge disappearing from view down her back. The skin she could see looked tight and uncomfortable, peeling slightly. Hayley sighed, hating to dwell on such a painful memory. Instead she found a small plastic bag in a cabinet under the sink wrapping it around her broken fingers for protection. A cold shower would wash away today's events and the icky feeling left by Harry Osborn.

Once she was fully clean, Hayley wrapped a towel around her damp body, before walking to the kitchen to make a jam sandwich. The TV buzzed behind her with "Breaking NEWS!" causing her to turn and watch. On the screen a large fire had broken out in a local factory, with the newsreader reporting the cause as an electrical malfunction. Some of the power in New York was still short-circuiting or failing thanks to Electro zapping electricity from the power station earlier that week. Apparently Spider-Man had yet to arrive on scene, the reporter was saying. He hadn't been seen since that night in the clock tower. Hayley looked away from the screen as a close up of the flames came into view. She hadn't liked fire, not since the loss of her parents.

**** Flashback ****

_The police never figured out how the fire had started._

_They had received a call from a neighbour concerned about shouting and screaming coming from inside the house. Already on the polices' radar, the Carmichael home had various complaints and troubled reports regarding domestic violence. _

_On this particular chilly and blustery night, shortly after the first call, another was made reporting that a fire had broken out in the kitchen. Police had already been dispatched and arrived on scene along with two fire engines. The blaze was enormous. An orange haze could be seen inside the lower and upper floor of the family home. A smashed window allowed air to fuel the fire, flames licking up the outer walls, causing the house to be hidden behind a wall of combustion. _

_A girl, no younger than ten, was discovered in an upstairs room cowering in a wardrobe. She was trapped, unable to open door from the inside, with the unbearable heat scorching her tiny hands if she tried. The clever girl had put a jumper over her head to allow for ease in breathing and the smoky air to be slightly ventilated, but nothing could protect her back. She had curled up into a protective ball facing away from the doors. The child had suffered from deep partial thickness second-degree burns, fire fighters only able to locate her from the screaming. _

_Mr and Mrs Carmichael were found, bodies burnt black, surrounded by a pool of blood. Each had been shot in the head. No gun was ever located; with a smashed window and the back door wide open, the forensic and situational evidence pointed to a robbery gone wrong. However, due to the fire, it was undetermined whether or not any possessions had been taken. The case was still open but considered cold and unsolvable due to lack of leads - the killer had never been found._

_Officer Stacy was never able to shrug a sense of uneasiness about the case. It was one that still plagued his mind, often running the evidence or lack of over and over, trying to discover a new angle. What kept him from disputing the deficient investigating with his ranking superior was thinking about how damaged that poor little girl already was. She would bare the physical and mental scars for the remainder of her life. He would never get the image of a fire fighter emerging from the flames, clutching a small child in his arms. Her back was exposed, displaying nasty boils and an unnatural red shade, shining like a beacon next to the pale complexion of her legs and face. The burns were an even darker red than her short ginger hair. They covered forty-five per cent of her fragile body. Small wisps of smoke rose from her damaged shoulders, with every cop unable to get the stench of burnt flesh from their nose for days. The girl was unusually quiet after her rescue with only a stream of tears displaying her discomfort. _

_All the young Officer Stacy could think of was how much she reminded him of his own little angel, Gwen. He took Gwen to visit the Carmichael child while she was recovering in the hospital burns ward. He didn't want to scare his little girl, but he wanted to teach her the importance of not judging others on their looks. Luckily his angel had taken it all in her stride, with Gwen and Hayley clicking straight away, becoming childhood friends. He was glad; after loosing everything so young, Hayley Carmichael could do with a friend. _

**** End Flashback ****

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Two days later, Hayley had received an urgent phone call in the afternoon from Ravencroft, needing her to take an evening shift. It was not her usual working hours because Hayley needed her sleep, especially since the medication she took made her drowsy. Hearing the desperation of the secretary on the phone, Hayley accepted the extra hours, hastily tried to get some rest before heading to wok.

"Where's Gillian today? I don't mind covering her shift since she covered mine, but it was a bit late notice" Hayley enquired. It was Midnight; the night shifts were only given to the most experienced nurses who had been at Ravencroft for over three years. The cells and endless dark corridors tended to frighten the young nurses, even some of the guards turned down extra shifts and money just to avoid working at night.

Cadence licked her lips hesitantly wondering how much of the situation Dr Scott would want Hayley to know.

"She's resigned, hon," the older nurse muttered quickly "She wont be coming back".

"Resigned?"

"Resigned" Cadence stated in a clipped tone. Hayley could tell the woman was not going to expand further on the matter.

Other than being wide awake at the stupid hours, the night shift was actually pretty easy, work wise in Hayley's mind. Only ten inmates required medication in the night, and the rest of the shift involved looking in on the patients through their cell windows. Evening behaviour was recorded manually on a table system by room number, noting down any uncommon sleep patterns, night terrors or drug reactions. Luckily for Hayley, Gillian had laid out the Night clipboard on her desk, along with ten white cups of pills. Now it was time to administer the drugs and visit every single cell in Ravencroft. It was going to be a long night.

With clipboard in hand, pills and cups in a Tupperware container, Hayley made to exit the Nurse's station.

"By the way, Dr Scott wants you to visit Room 136 at 10am to do an initial behaviour assessment with the patient," Cadence called after her offhandedly.

"Sure… no problem." Hayley continued out the door, clutching her shift items closer to her chest, trying to get a grip on what she'd just be told. One word ran through her mind;

Shit.

* * *

Apart from corridors being sparse of doctors and the occasional mad ramblings of slumbering inmates, Hayley was having a very quiet and easy night shift. Her medicine dependant patients were prepared for their nightly visit, waiting expectantly for the pills that would allow them to sleep without nightmares. It surprised Hayley how easily and calmly they all took the pills. She was expecting refusal from at least one. After finishing all the wings bar one, Hayley headed towards the West wing, as sense of foreboding filling her with dread.

Behind a coded locked barred gate, the entrance to the West wing, Hayley saw Colin, the longest employed guard at Ravencroft. Nothing could faze Colin; he had the biggest arms Hayley had ever seen, numerous tattoos decorating his skin, a slightly balding head, and a scar on his lip where an inmate had decided teeth would aid his escape – it did not. On first impressions, Colin looked like one intimidating guy, even like one of the prisoners, but he was a big bear at heart. At least with Hayley. Both originally from the United Kingdom, Colin had a soft spot for his fellow Londoner, plus she didn't seem to have many friends at Ravencroft.

Hayley saluted Colin, who she thought of as the bouncer of Ravencroft, while waiting for him to unlock the barred door between.

"Evening, well, morning Colin! God, I can't believe it's 3am already! Just need to inspect the patients. How's it been?" Hayley conversed, happy to speak to a friend – apart from Colin, the night guards were not a conversational bunch.

"Alrigh' darlin'. Fancy seein' you 'ere. Been a quiet one, nah much happenin' 'part from earlier," Colin's gruff voice boomed in the long passage. Hayley nodded, thinking he was referring to Gillian resigning. He pulled open the door, letting Hayley enter, before locking it behind her. They started walking together along the corridor, chatting mindlessly, stopping occasionally while Hayley noted down each cell occupants sleep activity.

They came to a stop outside Room 125, a previously vacant cell, now housing a new criminal, Aleksei Sytsevich. The man was awake, standing against the door, staring menacingly out the window. This made Hayley feel uneasy, but she jotted down his unsleeping state, making a note of possible insomnia with medication needed immediately. Colin shuffled next to the young nurse.

"Yeah, this one likes starin' thinks 'es a big shot!" said Colin, banging loudly on the glass making Sytsevich retreat back into his cell, "Freaks the fuck out of me, but 'e ain't goin' nowhere".

Hayley nodded, and they continued down the hall.

"By the way, where's that blonde chick, Gillian?"

"I thought you knew? She resigned today."

"Yeah, _sniff_, thought as much. Anyone would after that…"

"After what?" Hayley interrupted swiftly.

"Never you mind."

"It's really quiet tonight Colin, are you the only one in this wing? Where are Bill and Ernie?" Colin looked uncomfortable under Hayley's questioning gaze, but he couldn't lie to her, well not fully anyway.

"Given the night off, but both 'ave moved to North wing."

"When did that happen? You three were like the dream team of Ravencroft!"

"Today. 'N that's all I'm gona say on the matter," Colin stated a little forcefully. He was stressed, all of Ravencroft was on edge since Mr Osborn's arrival, but that was no excuse for his tone with Hayley. Besides, she hadn't been here for two days. She hadn't seen what had happened. Colin was about to apologise when a crackled voice came from the walkie-talkie on his belt.

"Big C, we got a 45 in progress in the North wing, requesting back up?"

"This Big C. On ma way. Over 'n out". With a final glance at Hayley that clearly said "Stay put!" Colin ran down the passage, leaving her alone and confused.

With only four rooms left on the chart on her clipboard, there was no way Hayley was going to stand around like a lemon. Colin could take forever. Whatever was happening on the north side of Ravencroft, it didn't sound good. Plus, what was the point in waiting when she was so close to finishing? Nothing was going to happen to her.

And nothing did. All four inmates were asleep and not displaying any noteworthy behaviour. Hayley smiled to herself, glad she could head back to the Nurse's station and get a quick nap before her usual shift started at 8am. Looking at her watch she was amazed to see it was 6am. Hayley was about to walk back when she realised that she was standing outside Room 134. Two cells away was Harry Osborn. Looking down at her clipboard, she was surprised to discover his cell had been missed off the list. Maybe someone had forgot to add it since he'd only just arrived.

Cautiously, Hayley stood outside his door, suddenly remembering that she had a session with him in four short hours. It was dark in his cell and she couldn't immediately locate him. Growing concerned, Hayley moved closer, putting her face almost flush against the glass window.

There he was, the green hued young man in all his glory, sitting on a chair staring at himself in a small dirty mirror, much like Hayley had earlier. She held her breath not wanting him to spot her spying. Harry seemed to be fully engrossed in looking over his altered appearance. His reflected eyes flickered up and down assessing the changes. He stopped when his eyes locked with the snooping girl reflected behind him. Hayley froze at being caught. Smirking with one pointed eyebrow raised challengingly, Harry puckered his cracked lips and blew the nurse a kiss.

Backing away sharply from the window, Hayley ran back to the West wing entrance, already dreading their next meeting.

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**Huge HUGE thank you to my reviewers and all the follows and favourites, it makes my day! Hope you liked poor Hayley's back-story – tad obscure but all in good time. **

**You guys are awesome and I am excited to bring you more… and it is your lucky day! This is a double chapter update! Chapter 4 is waiting for you to read, literally buzzing to see what you think. I wrote it before this chapter, so I've been writing like crazy to finish Chap3. Continue on and read my lovelies, Chapter 4 awaits... as does Harry! **


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Spider-Man or any of the other characters in the Marvel franchise - just my OC.**

* * *

Hayley stood nervously in front of Room 136. It was 10am and time for her to begin her behaviour analysis session with Harry Osborn.

Two riot guards were stationed on either side of the door, silently clutching guns and Tasers by their sides. She knew that Ravencroft was a maximum-security facility, with the West wing housing the most violent and volatile inmates, but this was just a bit much. Even after his eventful arrival, Harry would be in a straitjacket and secured to either a bed or a bolted chair as per standard procedure. Though, patients were rarely given counsel and assessment in their rooms. They had a special floor for therapy. But then Harry was not a standard criminal with ordinary abilities. Surely a constant presence of riot guards was not necessary though? Of course Hayley felt much safer for the upped security especially considering their last meeting. She looked down solemnly at her bandaged fingers hearing the Goblin snickering in her mind. Sighing, Hayley's thoughts once more went to Gwen Stacey, remembering that horrid phone call from Gwen's Mother informing her of her dear friends death.

**** Flashback ****

_She could hardly take her eyes off the television. They kept playing the same footage over and over again, of the Goblin on his glider, holding a blonde girl in the sky. It took her a moment to register the sound of her mobile ringing._

"_Is... is this… Hayley Carmichael?" a muffled broken voice came through the phone._

_Still focusing on the news, reading and re-reading the headlines to see if there was anything new concerning Gwen, the Goblin and Spiderman, Hayley mumbled;_

"_Yes?"_

"_This is Helen, Helen Stacy, ah, Gwendolyne's mother… have you seen… the news dear?"_

"_Yes," Hayley closed her eyes silently praying to every god she knew of to hear good news from Mrs Stacy. All her attention was now on the phone clamped to her ear in her clammy palm._

"_I've just returned from seeing Gwen…"_

_She's alive, she must be alive, the Spiderman will have saved her, he must have caught her, she's alive, she's alive…_

"_Yes?!"_

"_The doctors, erm, the doctors… dear, the coroner has confirmed that Gwen sustained spinal trauma and, and a broken neck when that bastard dropped her…"_

"_No…"_

"_She's… I can't even, Hayley I just… Gwen is dead," Mrs Stacy cried, every one of her words causing Hayley's heart to shattered, tears of realisation pouring down her small face._

_She's dead. Gwen is dead. I'll never see her again. That green bastard killed her. He fucking killed her._

"_The police still have some investigating to do, with some speculation of her heart giving out from shock… erm… I'm sorry, Hayley I can't, I have to go… she's gone, I, I'll call you when we've sorted out, when the funeral date is…"_

"_I'm sorry Helen… I can't believe…" But Mrs Stacy had already hung up. Sinking to her knees, leaning her head back against a bookshelf, Hayley started to wail with sorrow. The tears just continued to fall and they couldn't be stopped even though she sat in the same spot for well over an hour. All she could think about was never seeing Gwen again; no more Frappuccino's whilst reading in their favourite coffee shop, no celebrating when she made it in to Harvard, no more late night phone calls about her boyfriend Peter Parker. _

"_Oh my god," Hayley groaned to no one in particular, "Parker will be devastated." Fully accepting what life without Gwen Stacy would mean, Hayley cried harder, her body shaking in anguish. _

********** End Flashback ******

Feeling tears threatening to stain her cheeks again, Hayley snapped out of her thoughts. She really needed to get a hold of her emotions and fast. The young nurse was about to see the Goblin again. Hopefully with the right medication and counselling, the Ravenscroft staff could help reform and stabilise Harry Osborn's condition. That was what Hayley's professional mind was telling her. The other part of her wanted him to stay in his cell forever and pay for his crimes. She spied his green form in a Ravencroft orange jumpsuit through the door's window. Hayley wanted him to burn.

With anger feeding her with false confidence, Hayley nodded to the guards, shifting a clipboard into her bad hand so that she could enter the room. She clasped the large turn-lock handle, letting out a long sigh of breath she hadn't realised she'd held. One big push and the heavy metal door opened.

The cell was small, an aspect Hayley hadn't realised in the commotion of their first meeting. It was sparsely furnished; a bed by the wall opposite her, which was unkempt with the mattress hanging off the edge and leather binding straps carrying some wear and tear. Clearly there had been a struggle earlier. There was also a small sink, mirror and toilet situated in one of the room corners. Harry was sitting on a metal chair, his green and orange clothed body bound by a cream straitjacket, his ankles cuffed to the chair legs, with chains connecting the cuffs to one around his throat. An iron ring and been fused to the cell floor, with the chains confining Harry running through it – he wasn't going anywhere.

And he was quiet. Too quiet, staring directly at the ground, hunched over. He didn't even react to Hayley entering his cell.

She was used to silence during her therapy sessions but to not have the patient even acknowledge or seem to care that she had arrived was down right strange. Some inmates would plead with her that they had been falsely imprisoned, miraculous stories of how they'd changed and no longer wanted to kill or rape people. Others screamed and swore until they were blue in the face, needing a reaction to feed their obscene thoughts, goading her into loosening their restraints just so they could smell her hair. There were definitely some crazies in Ravencroft.

Realising that Harry did not yet know her name, Hayley reasoned that this was why he had failed to confirm her company.

"My name is Hayley, Nurse Hayley, you can call me the latter," she stated trying to give herself an air of authority before sitting down on the chair opposite Harry.

Still nothing. The only sound was their breathing; hers, short and shaky, his, hardly audible. Was he even breathing? Small chime like sounds coming from his chains rustling, confirmed in Hayley's mind, that yes he was indeed very alive and breathing. Her pen began rhythmically tapping loudly against the clipboard in her lap. This was a tactic she often used when her relationship-established patients closed themselves off from her and refused to converse. To an insane and disordered mind, the tapping pen wormed its way into their thoughts, disrupting their calm and collected façade. It was never nice to antagonise an unbalanced and dangerous person but sometimes it was needed for the sake of progression. After five minutes, it was obvious that the pencil plan was failing. Miserably. It was only when Hayley looked around the room and saw water dripping in the sink that she realised that annoying sounds would not affect him.

"You could call me Hayley if you'd like? Though that's tad informal. Maybe you'd like to give me a name? Many of the patients refer to me as Ginger, or not…" Hayley tailed off, internally cursing for acting like such an idiot for the sake of conversation.

It was true; patients did call her Ginger, though those who were far into their psychosis and rarely lucid used that name. One criminal had an obsession with red heads, so much so that he had stalked and killed multiple women with fiery locks. Apparently, Hayley wasn't his type, he'd swiftly informed her, since she had copper hair instead of scarlet. His nickname for Hayley was Mary Jane, a reference to 'the one that got away'. Luckily the Spider-Man had saved the damsel that day.

But he couldn't save Gwen, Hayley lamented resentfully.

"Shall we begin Mr Osborn?"

"NO! Mr Osborn was my fathers name" he spat.

"Harry then?"

"Harry is DEAD!" he bitterly exclaimed with venom lacing every word. The chains rattled at his ferocity, yet the man before her refused to visually acknowledge Hayley's presence. It was eerie considering when they first met he couldn't stop staring at her. It was sad that there was no truer statement than the one he just spoke; the CEO of OsCorp industry chained up like some sort of monster.

Because he is a monster, Hayley thought.

"Goblin?" She whispered nervously.

The creature finally looked the auburn haired girl in the eye at being correctly addressed. His head was tilted down, making it appear like he was inspecting her, observing, as if she was the patient and not he. Trying not to get caught in another freaky staring contest, Hayley hastily scribbled down some initial assessment notes regarding his behaviour;

'_No wish to be associated with father_; _resentment to family name and status? Anger and violent tendencies, sudden rage outbursts...' _

"I heard you refused to see any doctor but me," she continued.

"Refused is such a weak word, and I. am. not. WEAK!" Another one of the Goblin's sickening smiles graced his face following his aggressive statement. The word 'weak' rumbled in his throat and he spat it out like it offended him, burning his tongue to even say it. He was hinting at something, maybe to do with the earlier struggle? Then realisation dawned upon Hayley.

Nurse Cadence and Dr Scott had kept the situation pretty hushed up. Other than Gillian resigning yesterday, Hayley managed to discover that another Doctor had been injured, and two guards had moved wings at Ravencroft. She was told all four events were unconnected. Now she realised that the man chained before her was responsible. The Goblin had done all of this. Chaos and violence, such rage, but why?

"But why?" she asked.

"Whatever Harry Osborn wants, Harry Osborn gets!"

"And what do you want?"

"I want yooouuuu," the Goblin purred, licking his pointed teeth and chapped lips. His blue eyes sparkled with what Hayley could only identify as lust. If only it was lust. The Goblin was mentally breaking more of Hayley's little fingers, grabbing her hair before smashing that petite face into the ground beneath him. That trademark smirk of his reappeared as he imagined Hayley's demise.

"You hurt four people, just because you were refused _me _as your treatment nurse?"

"Of course."

"Why?" Hayley exclaimed incredulously. This whole situation was ridiculous; it scared her that he seemed to have narrowed in on her and no one else at Ravencroft. Hell, he had attacked people because he wanted to see her. She hoped this would not manifest into an obsession.

The Goblin began to whistle, clearly not wanting to reveal his true intent. Sighing in frustration, Hayley took the opportunity to make a few more notes on his behaviour;

'_Uses birth name and status ONLY when needed for reinforcement; thinks name can get him anything. Slight schizophrenia - poss identity crisis? Possessive?'_

"How are your fingers?" he asked suddenly, lifting his head and pouting his lips faking concern.

Shifting her clipboard into her bandaged hand, Hayley used her right to give the Goblin a very calm and composed two fingers swear sign. She rose from her chair with as much authority as she could muster, walked towards the door and signalled for the guards to open it. All the while the Goblin fixed her with a creepy grin, raising his eyebrows to show he was impressed at her flash of personality.

Leaving the room feeling slightly victorious, she nodded encouragingly at the two guards while they securely locked the cell door. Hayley walked away holding her head high triumphantly at her rebellious courage.

She'd only taken a couple of steps before frantic high-pitched laughter emanated from Room 136. Clearly she had amused the Goblin and now he was mocking her. Joy.

* * *

**This is my second longest chapter so far and was my most favourite to write! I hope you're all enjoying reading about twisted Harry. And I apologise for my long sentences with numerous commas – I have a very descriptive writing style and I love commas and semi colons – hope it still reads well for you all. **

**Also, the unofficial song for this fanfic is from The Amazing Spider-Man 2 soundtrack, and it is called "Honest" by The Neighbourhood – go listen to it, it is awesome, and it inspired me to write this story, other than Dane's amazing acting :D**

**Reviews are always welcome and greatly appreciated. **


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own Spider-Man or any of the characters in the Marvel franchise - just my OC.**

* * *

When Hayley returned to the Nurse's station after seeing Harry, she had two people waiting of her. Dr Scott and Nurse Cadence were having a deep conversation over coffee but stopped as soon as Hayley entered the room.

"Ah, there you are. Take a seat," spoke Dr Scott firmly, pointing towards a vacant chair in front of him. Hayley slowly sat down. She'd never liked Dr Scott. He was pompous, had a superiority complex, and acted like he owned Ravencroft. Sure, he was one of the institute's most superior doctors, but he looked down on all of the nurses, except for Cadence. He made Hayley cry in her first week on the job and continued to belittle her ever since. He preferred to give patient's overly strong medication and radical experimental therapies that bordered on torture in Hayley's opinion. Dr Scott and Dr Kafka, the head of Ravencroft, were both into untried and new therapies, preferring to test them on the life sentence inmates. And Hayley, with her Psychology background specialising in behavioural and cognitive therapy, was unwanted and seemingly beneath the two doctors.

"Before you relay how your little session went, you should know that by some miracle, Mr Osborn seems to tolerate you. So, you can continue working with him for the time being," sighed Dr Scott, irritated at the young nurse's success where he had failed.

"Thank you Dr Scott…"

"Yes, yes, yes. Bravo you. You have another session tomorrow morning. Now, I want you to raise the subject of getting a blood sample from him."

"A blood sample? Why?"

"He seems to trust you Hayley," Cadence chimed in, taking a more gentle approach than the doctor. "We had an issue when we tried before…"

"Is that why Gillian left? And those guards? Is that why Harry lashed out?' Hayley asked, already knowing the answer. Not only did Harry hurt her co-workers because he wanted to see her, but he obviously didn't want to submit to having his blood taken. Dr Scott and Nurse Cadence looked at each other, confirming Hayley's suspicions.

"We weren't prepared last time. We didn't realise his aversion to needles," Cadence tried to reason.

"Maybe if you'd asked him about it before hand…"

"He's the prisoner and we are the doctors – I do not _need _his permission for anything," argued Dr Scott. "Enough of this topic. You will make him understand that it's in his best interest to submit, do you understand? Good. Now, talk us through your session with Mr Osborn."

* * *

Hayley wandered home after her day shift, dreading going back to Ravencroft for midnight again – someone really needed to fill Gillian's slot. Not that she didn't mind the extra pay, but she was knackered and felt anxious all the time. Her back was beginning to peel again due to the stress, and with her sleeping pattern out of whack, so was her medication. She was also neglecting normal everyday life activities like food shopping, paying her bills, visiting Gwen… Hayley hadn't been to the cemetery since her friend's burial. With her mind made up, Hayley turned on her heel and drifted towards her dear friend.

* * *

The churchyard was quiet, apart from the church bells ringing out, a reminder of it being five in the afternoon. The wind rustled the trees, gentling moving the decaying leaves from the branches and to the crisp ground. Making her way among the rows of stone, Hayley avoided walking past her parent's graves, taking the long way to Gwen's spot. Gwen wasn't alone. A tall man with brown ruffled hair was standing next to the grave, his hands in his pockets, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Hayley hadn't seen Peter in awhile. They weren't the closest friends, not by any means, more like acquaintances through their friendship with Gwen. If anything, Hayley wished they knew each other better because Parker looked like he needed a hug. She wasn't the touchy feely type, especially because of her burn scars, but Hayley wanted to take away his pain. She coughed to catch his attention.

"Oh, hey, hey Hayley. It's been awhile, huh, like, not since Gwen…" Peter tried to sound upbeat but even saying Gwen's name obviously pained him greatly. He scratched his head and scuffed his shoes in gawkiness. Hayley tried to give him a comforting smile even though she knew a smile wouldn't fix anything. A smile couldn't fix either of them. She silently stood next to Peter, following his empty gaze down to where flowers covered Gwen's grave.

"I forgot to bring flowers," Hayley mumbled lamely, "I came to speak to her. I need her advice, she always gave the best advice."

"Yeah, Gwen was great like that," Peter sniffed, turning to finally face Hayley, "Well, I guess, could I help? I know I'm not, I'm not her…"

"You're great Parker. It's just, what I need to say, humph, it might make you upset."

"Nothing you could say could possibly make me feel worse Hayley, I guarantee it."

Hayley swallowed thickly; Peter was the last person she should discuss this with. "You know I work at Ravencroft right? Well, we have a new patient and I'm, I'm his behavioural therapist…"

"Its H…Harry isn't?" Peter whispered. He closed his eyes trying to supress the memories of that night, the night he lost Gwen.

"How can I treat him?" Hayley asked painfully, "when I know what he did to Gwen, how he killed her, that he's the reason she's gone… how, why should I help him? I hate him for what he did. He deserves to be locked away forever. But when I see him as the Goblin and then he says that Harry is dead, I just, I have to help him, but how? How can I Parker?" she threw up her hands in desperation feeling exhausted to finally tell someone what was keeping her awake. Peter didn't think he'd heard Hayley say that many words the whole time they'd known each other.

"Wow. O…ok, I wasn't expecting that, kinda caught me off guard here," Peter scratched his head again, fighting a war in his mind over his feelings towards the man he once called friend. "Jeez. I guess, we have to think, what, erm, what would Gwen say?"

"She'd probably tell me that everyone deserves a chance. That, if there is darkness in all of us, then there is also good?"

"Good always triumphs over evil…" Peter quoted darkly.

"I guess. I catch glimpses of the real Harry from time to time."

"He, he was my friend Hayley. I just, he hurt Gwen…"

Hayley turned to leave, having gotten her advice and sensing that Peter wanted to be alone.

"Thanks Parker, take care of yourself," she said before walking away.

"It wasn't him, it's not him, he wouldn't, but I know he did. I failed him, I failed her, I failed you Gwen… I'm sorry…but he wouldn't…" Peter babbled quietly to himself. But Hayley had heard also and thought about his words as she made the long trip home.

* * *

It was 4am and she was outside Room 136 again. Colin was on his break, Hayley had finished her nightly rounds without problem, and now she was back, like a moth drawn to a flame. Though if Harry were a real fire then she'd be nowhere near him; Hayley didn't need to be burned again. She had reasoned with herself the whole night on why she shouldn't and wouldn't check in on him. However she'd heard mumbling and talking coming from his cell. So here she was, hunched by his room door, trying to stay hidden from him as she looked through the window.

He was sitting in front of the mirror again. Except this time he was talking to his reflection. No, it was more than that, it almost sounded like there was someone else in there with him. Hayley quickly glanced around the dark room but saw no one. She could hear an angry deep rumbling voice that she identified as the Goblin. The other she didn't recognise; a soft and smooth voice coated with charm and upper class sophistication. Hayley couldn't hear the exact words but the two seemed to be in a heated debate about something. Where had she heard that voice before? It did sound familiar…

"Wha' you doin' down 'ere this late Hayley?" Colin questioned suspiciously making Hayley jump out of her skin.

"Jeez Colin! Never do that again!"

"Well, maybe if you weren't creepin' around I wouldn't of scared ya!" The guard looked at Harry through the door window, "He likes to chat to 'imself at night. Bloody weirdo."

"Yeah. I just wanted to check his behaviour," Hayley said, quickly scribbling incomprehensible notes on her clipboard.

"'Course you did. 'N now you 'ave, you should go back to ya office," Colin said firmly, giving Hayley a gentle push towards the direction of the West wing exit. She nodded sheepishly and reluctantly walked away, knowing she had been caught spying on her own patient.

* * *

Hayley sat at her desk in the Nurse's station with a hot mug of black coffee; it was bitter and almost too hot to drink, but she needed to stay awake. It was 5am and she was feeling haunted after witnessing Harry in his cell. She needed to write up her session with Harry, maybe even what she'd just seen, and now was a better time than any. Swallowing more vile liquid, she pulled up Harry's file, opened a blank report document and began to type. Hayley was tapping at her keyboard for well over an hour, but couldn't seem to transcribe her snooping on Harry in his cell. It felt like she'd invaded his privacy, even though in Ravencroft no one had any privacy, especially the incarcerated. Maybe it was a one off thing, she wondered, there's no point in recording it when maybe he was just lonely?

All Hayley knew, is that she wasn't going to write about it in her report. Clicking save, she began to close all the open windows on her computer screen. Something caught her eye in Harry's open folder; it now contained more files than were there a couple hours ago. That's strange, Hayley thought. Thinking nothing of it, she clicked open a video file. The displayed recording was filmed from a rather odd angle. It was only when she saw numbers counting in the corner did she realise that the footage was from a security camera. Curiously she leaned closer, gasping when a very normal, very human Harry Osborn came on the screen pointing a gun at an older male.

* * *

It was 9.45am and she was already standing hesitantly outside his cell, Colin leaning against the wall watching her carefully.

"'E's not wearin' a straitjacket no more" he informed Hayley warily, "rips through 'em with his nails every time we get near 'im with one, sniff, chains more effective anyways."

"I don't think he's insane anyway," Hayley muttered under her breath.

"You wha'?"

"He's just angry, not crazy"

Giving her a disbelieving look, Colin turned the locking mechanism on the cell door and let her in, shaking his head as he closed it behind her. Harry was the same as before, seated and bound in chains. He gave Hayley a charming smile, nodding towards the chair opposite him; this was his room and people did what he told them to do. He was an Osborn, and everyone should listen to him and do as he said. Besides, he wanted to feel like he had control over the situation.

"Now, we'd like to start you on a course of tablets to help you sleep. It's not a very high dose but I think it might make you more comfortable," she spoke quickly, taking her seat, placing a Tupperware box on the ground by her feet.

"And _you_ care about _my_ comfort?"

"I care about all my patient's health and wellbeing,"

"Even murderers?"

Looking the monster straight in the eyes, Hayley said with an encouraging smile, "Even you." She needed to build up his trust in the system, in her, if he was ever going to let them take his blood.

Something about that comment struck a cord with the human part inside the Goblin; no one had ever cared about Harry before. She didn't have to say ''you', Hayley could have simply agreed. But no, she directly addressed him, as if he mattered to her. Did he matter to her?

"Since you've been unable to sleep these past nights…"

"Been a regular Nancy Drew have we?" he murmured, cocking an eyebrow knowingly.

"… you will take one now, and then start the course properly at 9pm nightly." Shifting from her chair, Hayley plucked a miniature paper cup from her Tupperware box, which held a lone sleeping pill. She looked at the Goblin, whose eyes were sparkling with a mischievous nature. Maintaining eye contact, Harry raised his chained hands up as far as he could, shaking his arms awkwardly from side to side. There was an obvious lack of freedom in his movements. That was when Hayley realised there was going to be a problem; how would he take the medication when his hands couldn't reach his mouth? In that moment, Hayley wished she could slap that taunting grin off his smug face.

She held the little blue oblong tablet expertly between her thumb and forefinger; Harry opened his mouth and flicked his tongue expectantly, relishing in the nurse's uneasiness with the situation. Now it was time for him to have a little fun. Trying to keep her distance, Hayley stepped nearer to the bolted ring on the floor that held firm Harry's binding chains. Both were silent, as she reached forward, placing the pill inside his mouth. That was when the Goblin took his chance and closed his teeth down on her forefinger.

"Have a finger fetish? Or do you want to break some more of my bones?" the young nurse snapped. Although she sounded brave, Hayley had a feeling he wasn't going to hurt her. His discoloured teeth only trapped her finger, holding it inside his mouth, causing Hayley to blush with embarrassment. Though his teeth were sharp, he wasn't biting Hayley or producing lasting physical discomfort. Not like in their previous meetings.

The Goblin had already felt her touch and now he wanted to taste her. He flicked his devilish tongue around the captured dainty digit, eyeing Hayley intently for a reaction. She parted her lips sucking sharply at the cool air in shock. Harry thought she tasted glorious. Feeling his hold slacken when an impish satisfied grin appeared, Hayley tried to remove her finger as quickly as possible to not prolong the awkwardness. Harry wanted to continue Hayley's discomfort; puckering his lips, her finger came out much slower, extending their contact. For Hayley, this was torturous, though her body thought otherwise. Harry spied heat rash crawling across her flushed chest.

He managed to kiss her fingertip before she hastily pulled her hand away. Glancing up at her like a naughty schoolboy, Harry waited patiently for Hayley to regain her focus before bringing him a cup of water to swallow down the pill. She refused to look into his startling eyes; they were dangerous to gaze at, penetrating and evil, but still human.

After consuming the pill, the Goblin nodded to her rouged chest, "You look burnt or are you just red from embarrassment?"

It was an instinctive reaction, one she would kick herself for later as it exposed a weak spot, but in that moment Hayley lost her professional resolve. She dropped the paper cup; water droplets splashing the legs of his orange prison jumpsuit, making the Goblin watch her in fascination. The way her face had gone blank, almost in horror at his words. At how much paler, if that was even possible, her porcelain skin had become. How she leaped towards the dirty mirror above his sink, pulling the relaxed collar of her shirt open more, intently inspecting the place he had noticed. She dabbed and pulled at her skin as if she was making sure that it was an embarrassed flush on her skin and nothing else. The flustered girl didn't realise that if he craned his neck, Harry could see her reflection in the mirror. His hungry eyes memorised the way her collarbones stuck out slightly, how soft her skin seemed, and the nasty scarlet scars decorating her shoulders.

Now that was something he hadn't expected. He sighed loudly, marvelling at how interesting his little ginger nurse was quickly becoming. He still wanted to kill her – no one touched Harry Osborn – but now Harry was beginning to think that she might be more interesting to keep around. Hayley was innocent yet scarred, quiet but with a sassy side; she was a delightful enigma. Much more interesting than the vapid models he'd been with in a previous life. His sigh jolted Hayley out of her moment with the mirror and she realised she'd yet to inform him about the blood sample. The room felt stifling for Hayley whereas the Goblin was as cool as a cucumber, relaxed and enjoying no longer being alone.

It was now or never. She returned quickly to her chair, picked up the Tupperware box and slowly backed away towards the exit.

"Not going to say goodbye? I'm offended!" Harry said smoothly, a glimpse of his playboy personality slipping past the monster's mask.

Hayley turned, bracing herself for what she had to say next; "Tomorrow morning Dr Scott will be taking a sample of your blood. It's, it is in your best interest to comply or…"

Immediately his demeanour changed.

"THEY CAN'T HAVE IT! NO! YOU BETRAYED ME! YOU'RE JUST LIKE HIM!" the Goblin bellowed, standing off his chair as far as he could, rattling his chains wildly. He kicked the chair angrily, screaming, trying to rip off his bindings. He wanted to kill her. In that moment, Hayley saw the monster that had killed Gwen, and she knew if he was free she'd be dead too. All she could hear was his voice echoing in the cell. She barley noticed Colin and another guard bursting through the door and tackling him to the floor just as the cuffs on his wrists broke.

"GET OUT HAYLEY, GET OUT!" Colin yelled, trying to get through to a stunned Hayley who had slide down the opposite wall, sitting on the ground shell shocked.

"YOU'RE BOTH THE SAME! I HATE YOU! YOU. ARE. JUST. LIKE. HIM!"

* * *

**I just can't seem to stop writing this story! Had a wonderful dream last night about Harry and Hayley… future chapter material, I think so! **

**Huge thanks to everyone who is reading and enjoying my first fanfic; all the views, reviews, followers and favourites make me so happy. To my guest reviewers who I can't personally PM, know that your reviews make me smile. **

**Clarification on one note; I am aware that my story is reminding people of Joker and Harley Quinn. This is and was not my intent when I began writing this; I think it's a subconscious thing on my side, because Joker and Harley got me in to reading fanficition so I know their relationship almost too well. I will definitely address this as I continue the story, as I don't want to copy a well-known relationship. I apologise, and I appreciate the feedback I've been given on this issue. I want Harry to experience real love with Hayley, something he's never had from his family, love like Peter and Gwen.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter lovelies!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own Spider-Man or any of the characters from the Marvel franchise - just my OC.**

* * *

After seeing her in an unresponsive state after Mr Osborn's outburst, Colin had strongly recommended to Dr Scott that Hayley take the night off. And by some miracle the doctor had agreed. Hayley had only spoke to question whom would start the patient's new course of sleeping pills that night. Apparently, Human Resources at Oscorp had finally approved their request and given Ravencroft funding for extra staff in the West Wing. Along with more trained riot guards on patrol, an additional three nurses had been assigned to that wing – Dr Scott had chosen candidates that lacked the required skills so that they could be easily manipulated. The three female nurses were also extremely attractive, as the doctor hoped they would appeal to Mr Osborn's patent for dating models. Maybe now he would forget that ginger twit and start being more receptive to Dr Scott's treatment techniques. He would try out the curvaceous Cheryl first.

* * *

That evening, Hayley sat in bed with a cold and neglected Pot Noodle, reflecting on Harry's sudden change earlier that day. She knew he'd be angry; it was stupid to think he'd be pleased, especially considering how he'd reacted when they tried to take a sample previously. Sure she hadn't been his therapist long but Hayley honestly thought she had built a little bit of trust between them. Mindlessly lifting a forkful of limp noodles into her mouth, Hayley remembered the way Harry had looked at her before Colin had grabbed him. The raw hurt and anger in his eyes was just so ferocious it had honestly scared her more than when he had broken her fingers. Hayley had never seen someone look so betrayed – she felt like a failure. It was like Dr Scott was setting her up to fail, like he didn't believe in her as a psychologist. Sure she was young but maybe that was why Harry trusted her because they were similar ages. All she knew now was that all her hard work had been undone… and that the Pot Noodle tasted disgusting. Setting it on her bedside table, she quickly brushed her teeth in the bathroom before returning to her bed to sleep.

Sleep did not come easily for Hayley that night. Her Amitriptyline tablets always made her sleepy, however she suffered from chronic nightmares, many of which involved fire. Though tonight was an exception…

Hayley dreamt she was standing in a bright circular room, full of strange scientific devices she had never seen before - it looked like she had stepped into an episode of Dr Who. She was alone. The strip lights above were overly bright, hurting her eyes as she inspected an extraordinary metal robot with eight long arms locked away behind some glass. All of a sudden, a loud shout of pain coming from behind caught her attention. Spinning around wildly, Hayley saw Harry Osborn in a black t-shirt and jeans, on his knees clutching at his body. The pain looked so intense that Harry was ripping off his shirt like it was burning his skin. Alarm bells started to ring and the lights began to flash, except nothing could disturb Hayley's focus on the man's naked back. Harry leaned backwards yelling out at the uncontrollable searing agony that was overtaking his body. He then collapsed on the floor in front of her, his body shaking as if he was having a seizure. Hayley tried to close her eyes, look away, anything to not witness Harry coming apart before her. But she couldn't move. She was stuck, rooted in place, unable to blink, eyes forced to watch the man turn into a monster.

Harry's body began to pulse, veins throbbing abnormally green, whilst his voice never ceased with its penetrating screams. It looked like he was burning inside; sweat dripping profusely off his back and forehead. Hayley uncomfortably observed how his muscles and bones seemed to be reforming themselves, making Harry move erratically on the floor. He gripped the ground like a caged animal as his nails began to grow, his hair lost that pretty boy side sweep due to his excessive sweating, and angry green sores covered his body. Even his teeth began to shatter because he was gnashing them together so violently.

Harry Osborn was dying. Hayley was watching a man die.

Finally, he began to crawl away from her, pulling himself towards a green metallic suit. The glass doors enclosing it opened when Harry neared them, breathing heavily, as if it was his only hope to reach it. Hayley wished she could go to him; ease his pain instead of standing frozen like an idiot. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry was at last standing up in the suit, sighing deeply as it began to mould to his body. The suit whirred and beeped as it came to life and responded by starting to hover on a glider above the ground. Harry opened his eyes, revealing a more intense shade of ice blue, as he smiled wickedly at Hayley, finally noticing her. The pain that plagued him before seemed to have vanished. Silently he glided to where she stood, reaching out to grasp her hands in his. Harry smiled innocently. Then he twisted both her hands, laughing as she screamed in agony when her wrist bones snapped and broke through skin…

"SHIT!" Hayley screamed, sitting bolt upright in her bed, knocking the lamp beside her over in fright and spilling noodles everywhere. Even her fingernails had nipped into her palms and drawn blood she was so scared. She had never had a nightmare that vivid before. It was so real. Like she had actually been in the room when Harry transformed. Hayley had tried to forget what she had seen in that video clip she'd discovered in his computer file. The security camera angle hadn't caught the whole of Harry's metamorphosis into the Goblin, she had only heard his screams, seen him pointing a gun to an older man, and seen him writhing on the ground. But that dream… her imagination wasn't that good! Maybe it was because they were in such close contact that Hayley's subconscious mind had run wild tonight.

Getting out of bed, she decided to take a very long and very cold shower. It was obvious she wasn't going to sleep tonight.

* * *

Someone else was having trouble sleeping; the Goblin was pacing his cell in the dead of night. He had refused to take his second sleeping pill that evening and was now slightly regretting it. After Hayley had left the cell, the two guards had sedated him and removed all his chains, bar the cuffs around his feet, like they did every time his therapy sessions ended. He had so much pent up rage when he awoke that upon seeing some blonde outside his door with the medication, the Goblin tried to throw the spare chair in his room at her through the glass window. Obviously those stupid guards had forgotten to remove it. And now he was awake, bored, and pondering why Hayley had not returned for her night shift. Not that we wanted to see her, she had betrayed him after all. But then, she was a constant in the never ending days he spent alone his cell.

"I should have choked the life right out of her then and there," the Goblin spoke aloud, flexing his fingers, imagining her beautiful throat breaking...

"_You know you don't want her dead. She's too interesting to kill."_

There was that charming voice again. It only came at night when the Goblin couldn't sleep. Sighing, he sat in front of the murky mirror staring at his reflection intently.

"She's far more beautiful than that Gwen girl," the Goblin concurred. "Asking for my blood was a mistake. And she will pay for it."

"_It was probably that stupid Dr Knobhead that put her up to it. Besides it's her job!"_

"You're weak Harry. Why do you think I came out to play, hmmm?"

"_But imagine how much fun it would be to have Hayley, and not just toy with her, I mean have her for good?" _Harry Osborn tried to reason.

"Ginge is a stunning specimen," the Goblin agreed with his likeness in the mirror.

"_Exactly! She's hot!"_

"Those scars on her shoulders, now that is an interesting feature."

"_If you kill her, we'll never find out how that happened!"_

"I bet they run down her back like fallen angel wings…" the Goblin licked his lips, thinking about her auburn hair cascading over her slim spine, and how he would add a few more scars to that delicious body.

"_You can't hurt her dammit! Then she'll end up looking like us! Like a monster!"_

The Goblin snarled at his reflection seeing the weakness of Harry Osborn emanating behind his own eyes. He punched the wall next to the mirror in anger and turned from it, effectively ending the conversation.

"We look like this because of Spider-Man, because Peter betrayed us!" he yelled to himself before restlessly lying down on his bed. "Though, the prospect of feeling her touch again, her body, is something, I'll admit, is worth not killing her for."

* * *

Hayley could hear the shouts of the guards and Harry's bellowing before she'd even entered the West Wing.

She had told them not to start without her, but only being his behavioural nurse and not a doctor, she really didn't have a say in the matter. Picking up the pace, she sprinted towards the sounds, knowing her path without even paying proper attention. When she had passed an excessive amount of guards outside Room 136, Hayley saw six doctors, five riot guards with guns, and Colin, all crammed with Harry in his tiny cell. Colin and another guard were on the ground wrestling with the Goblin who was attacking them back in response.

"Goblin… GOBLIN STOP!"

Everyone stopped and stared at the pint-sized nurse, because even though her hair was ferocious, she'd never asserted that much fiery dominance before. Well, not at work at least. The doctors and guards parted, though the guns were still trained on the now still Osborn boy. Colin and his partner removed themselves from the now still Goblin, who sat up as if no of it ever happened. All eyes were on her and Hayley was beginning to regret her outburst. She hated to stand out in the crowd. She preferred to blend in, go unnoticed. But everyone in the room noticed her now and she was growing self-conscious.

"Burnt yourself again Ginge? Twice in one day, you really need some self control," laughed the Goblin, thinking how funny it was that heat rash actually looked somewhat cute on Hayley. However, still sensing he was in danger, he viciously eyed the guards, wary of the guns still pointed at him.

"Goblin, look at me" she said firmly, squatting down to be on his eye level; Hayley clicked her fingers in his face to grab his attention. He made a snatch for her hand and she let him, rolling her eyes, wondering why her fingers always seemed so damn fascinating.

"Dr Scott needs, mmm, would like to take the blood sample now."

"He's tried and failed - Harry Osborn will not be a lab rat."

"We want the blood to…"

"_You_ want it?" he asked indignantly, no longer focusing on how dainty her hand was in his, but noticing her words and their sudden close proximity.

"No, they… I mean, yes. Yes Goblin. _I_ want it. I want your blood to _help_ you." She leaned closer to him so that only he would hear what she had to say next, "I've seen footage of when you transformed. I know you were dying and were desperate. I know how much you look in the mirror and hate what you see, that underneath it all you wish you were Harry again."

Using his other hand, the Goblin flicked a pointed finger back and forth, disagreeing with her last words. He then plucked a lock of her copper hair between his outstretched fingers, stroking it in a manner that exceeded a normal patient/doctor relationship.

"Harry _is_ dead," he whispered slowly trying to emphasize his point.

"No. No he isn't," Hayley countered, taking her free hand and placing it over his tainted green one that held her soft ginger strands. "I know you're in there Harry."

Playing along with her game, the Goblin nodded slowly, releasing one of her hands so he could look at his now free and open arm. Taking this as obedience, Hayley turned towards the crowd of watching doctors, motioning for one to come and take the sample. Luckily Dr Scott wasn't holding the venepuncture because she knew that the Goblin would most likely become hostile again. One of his assistants stepped forward nervously instead and knelt beside the unlikely pair. He then proceeded to roll up the sleeve of Harry's prison clothes. Hayley made to move away but stopped when she felt the Goblin's hold on her hand tighten. Sitting tight, she observed the assistant doctor place the thick needle into the uncovered green hued arm with shaking hands. It was then that she felt some discomfort in her own hand and realised that the subdued monster beside her was clutching at it desperately. Underneath the transformation, the anger, the murderer and the monster, Harry Osborn was simply human, a human who was afraid of needles.

* * *

***1 Week later***

"I don't think much of that new nurse. The peroxide blonde girl. Not as interesting to look at," Harry spoke as soon as Hayley walked in the room, "She's missing that certain _fire_; she's not like you Ginge." He offered the young nurse a genuine smile, clearly catching her off guard with his pleasantness after their eventful meeting the previous week.

Hayley had not been granted more session time with Harry since Dr Scott had demanded the blood sample. The doctor was growing increasingly frustrated at how Mr Osborn seemed to respond to such an inexperienced idiot of a nurse. Especially after how he had witnessed Hayley stroll in, late, then start shouting like she owned the place. And, to top it all off, she had engaged in inappropriate behaviour with a patient, a murderer! In front of everyone! He had had the situation under control. She was only meant to be present to _ease _Mr Osborn's behaviour, not disrespect Dr Scott's doctorate and position at Ravencroft. The girl was becoming too much of an inconvenience and was the cause of every headache he'd had since Mr Osborn's arrival. After the sample had been taken, he'd called her directly into his office and reprimanded her. Dr Scott informed Hayley that she had lost rights to her patient and was very close to loosing her job due to her unsuitable conduct. He enjoyed watching the horror flash across her face when he threatened her employment at Ravencroft. Pleased with his actions, the doctor became thoroughly annoyed when that new blonde nurse informed him of Mr Osborn's refusal to take any medication all week. The patient had not slept due to abruptly stopping the drugs, becoming increasingly erratic and violent. He had even tried to attack a more senior psychologist that Dr Scott had assigned to Mr Osborn to replace Hayley. It had killed him to go back on his word and reinstate her as Mr Osborn's primary nurse.

"I think you mean Cheryl?" said Hayley.

"Peroxide."

"Do you always call people by their hair colour?"

"Only the models and people who aren't important enough to keep track of." Spying disappointment flash across her face at his words, he continued on to say, "Ginge is an endearment; it does not denote your unimportance. Besides, your hair is too beautiful to ignore."

"And Cheryl's is too bright and trashy to ignore."

The Goblin couldn't supress his delight at her retort. He could see she was embarrassed by his compliment and when he touched her. Maybe she was not used to male attention, especially if she concealed a scarred secret beneath her clothes. Hayley felt his eyes on her and shifted around in her chair under his lustful scrutinizing gaze. Noticing that the conversation was veering off topic, she tried to regain both their focus.

"Why have you been refusing your pills? You look like you could do with the sleep," Hayley asked, realising that his green skin colour could not quite conceal the dark bags beneath his eyes,

"I wanted to see how long it took for you to notice," he spoke nonchalantly, crossing his legs as best he could with the cuffs around his feet. It was like he thought that medication could just be stopped and started whenever he pleased, and his noncompliance was starting to piss Hayley off.

"Seriously? Look, I've been reinstated as your nurse now…"

"Which was _my_ doing."

"…and you've been here for almost a month. So I really think we should start progressing with your therapy." She was exasperated by the situation and how she really hadn't been doing her job very well thus far.

"Going to be my fairy godmother and magically make the monster disappear? Hmmm? Or will you be stereotypical and ask me how I_ feel_ about everything?" the Goblin sassed sarcastically.

"Actually I was going to ask about your father."

* * *

**AHHHHHH! Sorry for the cliff-hanger – I'm so evil!**

**Btw guys, there is nothing wrong with peroxide hair, I just imagine Cheryl to be one of those people who literally gets by on looks. Also, I really hate Dr Scott he is such a dick! **

**And I hope the scene between the Goblin and Harry made sense – it's a twist on the scene from the original Spider-Man film where Norman Osborn is talking to the Goblin in the mirror. It was an interesting challenge to write. I also hope it didn't read like something from LOTR - I don't want to go into Gollum territory, just schizophrenic psychosis. **

**Love and hugs to reviewers, followers and favourite-button pressers – you guys are freaking awesome! **


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own Spider-Man or any of the characters in the Marvel franchise… If I did, I think wanting Harry and Loki as my boyfriends would be a dangerous love triangle! I only own my OC.**

* * *

The Goblin's eyes flashed darkly at her requested topic of conversation. Hayley knew she was treading on thin ice particularly since his trust in her was constantly being tested. However, she had long suspected that at the root of his issues was a boy trying to win his father's approval. It was almost a textbook case minus the whole Goblin transformation. She'd done some research before their session in preparation; his previous medical records indicated alcoholism and an addiction to Oxycodone. With his party heavy lifestyle splashed over the papers, a new model girlfriend every month and constant trips abroad, it was like Harry was trying to avoid revisiting his childhood home.

"He's dead," the Goblin stated shortly, clearly annoyed at the serious turn in their session. After a few minutes of heavy silence, it was obvious to Hayley that he wasn't about to elaborate. She would have to be clever in her approach, clever enough to make the Goblin reveal information without realising, without admitting he was weak.

"It says in your file that Norman Osborn died of symptoms and health issues related to his illness Retroviral Hyperplasia," Hayley stated, casually tapping her pen on her notepad. Having never officially discussed his past, Hayley did not know what to expect from the Goblin during this session. He was always so guarded and closed off, never revealing much of himself, except when he felt vulnerable or emotionally strained. She was going to use a reverse psychology method with him. By seemingly acting like she thought there was good in Norman Osborn, Hayley hoped that would further piss the Goblin off to make him reveal his inner feelings. It was a gamble, probably a stupid one, but having no parents through her childhood as well, Hayley understood why Harry would be closed off about the subject. She just hoped he wouldn't try and attack her.

"Does his death upset you?

"And why would it upset me?"

"Because without family, we are all truly alone."

"Does my file say that the bastard passed the disease on to me? Of all the things he gave me; his money, his name, fame, OsCorp, and now the Osborn curse," the Goblin spoke bitterly, clearly unimpressed by his father's audacity at giving him a disease that was hereditary.

Hayley started to write down her observations in the notebook on her lap;

'_Materialistic, possessions seem to be worth more, can hide behind them. Osborn curse - fantasizing condition? Believes father chose to give him the disease, final act before death – past rejection due to illness?'_

"On his deathbed, he told me to just deal with it," he muttered angrily.

Having worked with many of Ravencroft's inmates, nothing seemed to shock Hayley anymore; the world was a bad place full of darkness and destruction. Other than her own past and now Harry's Goblin transformation, the things she had heard and seen from her patients had never haunted her. But for a father to show no sign of love or recognition of a family bond always tugged on Hayley's heartstrings. The things she remembered about her own father were not particularly pleasant.

"Freud and Jung argue that a father is very important to a boy's development of identity; would you agree with this statement?"

"He shipped me off to boarding school when I was eleven so he didn't have to look at me."

"I'll take that as a yes." According to Freud, sons feel competitive with their father due to dominance and society's view that men are to be the head of the family. With Norman Osborn being the CEO and founder of such a large enterprise, how could Harry ever compete with that amount of success, Hayley thought? In her studies, Hayley had read that Freudian psychologists believed that in some cases, it was worse for the son to win a battle against the father than to lose; Harry had lost any chance of winning a battle, winning his father's approval and affection when Norman died. However, the one battle Harry could win, would be to succeed were his father had failed – he could stop the disease from killing him. This conflict inside of Harry, to be everything his father was and more, that was what Hayley suspected was fueling the Goblin's anger.

'_Internal battle to best Norman, to be recognised as better – anger manifestation rooted deeply, no normal father figure. Rash and abrasive personality, no guidance in normal behavior…'_

"Did your father show you any affection? Is there a memory of him that makes you smile?" Hayley asked already knowing the answer was most likely to be no.

"I received a bottle of scotch for my 16th birthday…"

"A 'welcome to manhood' gift?" The presence of a strong father's figure during childhood is integral for he son to develop a positive sense of self-masculinity; Hayley hastily scribbled down;

'_Start of alcoholism? Sense of masculinity through drink reinforced by father at crucial developmental stage. Reminder of self worth, well lack off…'_

"It was sent by one of his assistants at OsCorp. Even had a typed card that read 'with compliments' and a photocopied signature. Such a _caring_ father, Ginge," smiled the Goblin bleakly.

"What about your mother, Emily? She died when you were seven – did her death not bring you and your father closer together?"

"HA! Listen to yourself Ginge, what are you trying to prove? That Norman Osborn was a good businessman, a loving father?"

As much as it felt horrible to do, Hayley internally smiled at the success of the reverse psychology method she was using on Harry. He was revealing a lot more than she thought he would. Sure he wasn't going into details or explaining his feelings, but nonetheless he _was_ conversing with Hayley.

"The first time he hit me was the day my mother died. He kept shouting how it was all my fault, that if I had _never_ been born then she would have lived!" The Goblin stood from his chair, his voice growing louder and more heated as he began to uncover more and more. "He never loved me. Life is not a fairytale, there is no happy ending, no love, no happiness…"

"But…"

"Did you know that _my_ father spent more time following Peter than having a relationship with me?"

"Parker?"

"You _know_ him?"

"Of course! What's this got to do with Peter?"

"EVERYTHING! ARGHH!" The Goblin grabbed the chair behind him and threw it at Hayley, who dived to the ground to avoid it, though not before the chair leg grazed her cheek. There was a loud clatter behind as it made contact with the cold stonewall. She looked at the Goblin who was breathing heavily staring at the damaged chair; his fists were clenched in anger, teeth bared, standing tall, drunk on the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He looked so powerful and Hayley was once again reminded of how deadly her patient could be. In the dim light, it almost seemed like his skin had gone a darker shade of green. The veins on his face and neck were definitely more prominent. She was certain he hadn't been _that _green a few minutes ago. The Goblin always had splotchy skin and a jaundice glow, but his skin looked more vivid now.

Hayley's bandaged hand quickly went to her face; small spots of fresh blood stained her fingers. She hissed at the pain. It was then that the Goblin's glowing eyes shifted to the nurse on the floor. Concern flashed across his face at the sight of blood running down her face. He shuffled as close to her as his chains would allow, before crouching down, reaching his cuffed hands towards her injured face. Scaly green finger softly cupped her face, turning her head slightly so that the Goblin could inspect the damage he had caused. Her face felt so small in his hands and her eyes were such a striking shade of emerald that he thought it was ironic how the colour which made him so hideous, made her look beautiful. He was so close that he could feel her shaking; she was frightened. Hayley held her breath. Sighing, the Goblin broke away from her, removing his hands, before sitting backwards onto the ground. Although his face seemed void of emotion, Hayley could clearly see rejection radiating from his eyes.

A noise, knuckles knocking on glass, made Hayley turn sharply; Colin was giving her a concerned look, harshly jabbing his finger at her and then back to him, signalling for her to leave the room. Slowly, gripping her chair for support, Hayley stood from the ground. Seeing her about to leave, the Goblin put his head in his hands and turned away from her. He looked so helpless like a child who didn't know there own strength. Hayley was about to move towards him when she heard Colin banging impatiently on the door.

"I've got everything under control Colin," Hayley said hotly, slamming the cell door closed behind her.

""'E just threw a chair at ya!"

"He was not trying to hurt me,"

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? Hayley, ya face is bleedin'!" Colin looked over her face and tiny frame trying to identify more cuts and bruises. Upon finding none, he focused back to her face, noting that the cut was only shallow and not too severe.

"Colin! I've literally just made a break through here, so will you _please_ let me do my job!"

"Look 'ere, I'm just doin' mine…"

"Exactly! You've chained him to the floor, ok? He cannot get to me!"

"Didn't look that way…" Colin was growing increasingly concerned by the young nurse's behavior with Mr. Osborn; he didn't want his friend to get hurt.

"Colin, you are not a psychologist, I am! I do not need to explain my therapy techniques, especially to you!"

"Fine." Seeing he was fighting a loosing battle, Colin gestured towards the cell, reluctantly allowing Hayley to return inside. He didn't like how his friend seemed different around that monster; she seemed more aggressive, more dangerously confident. It was a far cry from the shy mousey kid he met a year ago.

Once back in Room 136, Hayley sat on her own chair, feeling flustered from her spat with Colin. She felt bad for fighting with the guard but everyone seemed to expect her to fail. No one had any confidence in her abilities and she was sick of it. It was like they had all given up on Harry, like they only thought of him as a monster. Maybe OsCorp and Ravencroft wanted to keep Harry Osborn buried. She couldn't let that happen. She knew what it was like for people to only see a monster.

After her parents died, Gwen and Officer Stacy had visited her on the Burns Ward. Hayley was the only child on the ward at that time, surrounded by adult patients with worse burns than her. She was so scared one day that little Hayley ran to the Children's Ward play area and hid in the playhouse to avoid seeing the burn patients. When the other children found her, they screamed and cried, calling her a monster and a freak because of the burns that covered her. They threw toys at her, saying she should have died in the fire with her parents, so they wouldn't have to look at her ugly face. It was only with the arrival of Gwen, who had perfect blonde hair and a pretty pink dress that Hayley began to feel like a normal child again. Young Gwen had run up to her, jumped on her bed and shoved a My Little Pony toy in her face. Apparently Princess Sherbet Hooves was now Hayley's toy so that when Gwen visited every week they could play Pony Paradise together; Gwen's horse was called Sugar Cube Starlight. Even as a ten year old, Hayley was amazed at her new friend's ability to ignore the burned monster that all the other children could see her as. Gwen never gave up on her, so Hayley wouldn't give up on Harry Osborn.

"You threw a chair at me," Hayley said to the Goblin's back.

"I did."

"They will stop our sessions if you continue to be violent towards me. I, I cannot help you if you hurt me Harry."

"_I'm sorry,"_ came a strange muffled voice.

"Pardon?"

Turning to face her, the Goblin smirked when he saw the dried blood on her face;

"I said, next time I throw a chair, I won't miss."

* * *

**Pretty heavy chapter on the feels I think! I got a tad emotional when writing Hayley's bullying memory – children can be so cruel. For some people it might seem strange that children so young would tell someone to die, but trust me, even at that age, bullying can be a horrendous experience!**

**Just want to point out that I've never done psychology as a subject, so I've been doing a lot of research to write this chapter and future ones, as well as drawing on my own personal experiences with counselling therapies – hope it reads well!**

**Next chapter will be extra long! Love to everyone who's reading this, you are all so wonderful!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I do not own Spider-Man or any of the characters associated with the Marvel franchise - just Hayley, my OC.**

* * *

That peroxide girl was at his door again; she was knocking tentatively on the window to get his attention. The Goblin sighed, rolled off his bed and slowly stretched to get the kinks out of his back. After Ginge left this morning, he'd been thinking about how their sessions could end if he didn't start actively accepting the help she offered. Of course it was ridiculous that he even needed therapy to begin with – he was strong now, the Goblin had his weakness under control. Or did he? He thought about the moment when Harry had stupidly apologized to the auburn beauty. How dare he! The Goblin had taken control because that trust-fund boy was _weak; _he had saved them both! It was annoying enough to have him squawking nonsense in his head but now he was trying to regain control. Maybe taking the sleeping pills would get Harry to shut up; the Goblin _did_ need a good nights sleep.

When the Goblin was standing in front of the door, nurse Cheryl slid a panel on the adjacent wall to reveal a small letterbox shaped hole. She motioned from him to place is hands through the slot. Once they were, Cheryl dropped two small sleeping pills into his cuffed gnarled hands. He noticed how the blonde did not physically touch his palms and had even shuddered when she had seen his green fingers. The Goblin moved in front of the door again so that Cheryl could see through the glass window that he'd placed the pills into his mouth. Then it was back to the slot to receive a small paper cup of water to wash them down. Cheryl quickly passed through the cup, which the Goblin took, but not before noticing how horrid looking the nurse's hands were. They weren't as smooth or delicate as Hayley's; disgusting tacky jeweled false nails were stuck on the end of each finger.

"You know I could break your fingers if I wanted," the Goblin threatened through the glass, "but your hands are not _worthy_ of my attention."

The peroxide blonde just stared at him before blowing a huge bubble of gum from her mouth, popping it, then noisily munching the sweet between her unnaturally white teeth. He snarled at her tackiness. God he wanted to kill her too but only because the blonde was _so_ damn irritating. It was exhausting just looking at her. Cheryl closed the letterbox panel and walked down the hall without even acknowledging the Goblin further. He too moved away from the door and plopped himself on his uncomfortable bed to wait for the pills to kick in.

That night, the Goblin began to dream about killing Cheryl and all the other staff at Ravencroft – it would be glorious to see them all burn and scream in pain. When they were all dead, he noticed dream Hayley standing next to him, her fingers still broken. Lifting them to his face, the Goblin instantly felt calm with her hands touching his tarnished skin.

* * *

A couple of hours after Cheryl had left, the Goblin was disturbed from his drug induced sleep, by an unscheduled visitor opening his door. He doubted it was Hayley as he'd already been informed of their session the in two days time. With sleep heavy eyes, he groggily made out the shadows of two well-built males from the yellow light shining his door window. He could briefly hear noises as if someone was shouting at him.

"Get up! Come on pretty boy, get up!"

"What's wrong with him Colin? Looks like he's fucked up!"

"Probs be 'is meds. 'Es gona be fucked up in a minute!" Colin said menacingly, rubbing his knuckles together in preparation. The guard had been waiting for Hayley to no longer be assigned the night shift so that he could round up the lads and get revenge. That Osborn kid deserved to be taught a lesson for what he did to Gillian and his boys Bill and Ernie. Plus, Colin did not like the way he seemed so interested in the ginger nurse. Harry Osborn was a monster; he'd killed a girl for Christ sake!

There was a knock on the cell door before an additional three guards entered.

"'Bout bloody time lads!"

"Sorry Big C! We had a small issue in East Wing; that reptile doctor freak was kicking off again..." explained one of the new guards.

"What's wrong with Mr. Osborn?"

"That's HARRY Osborn you _idiot_!" shouted the Goblin incoherently – he was still having problems understanding why these people were in his room. His sleeping pills were one hell of sedative.

"Right lads, 'e's awake!" Colin chuckled, "Good. I want 'im to feel every bit o' this!"

The Goblin tried to stand but he swayed dangerously when he left the bed – he was in no position to defend himself from these thugs. This wasn't going to be fun, he thought before the world went black and the guards descended.

* * *

Other than their topics of conversation, his therapy sessions with Hayley had now become part of his daily routine, along with nightly medication from Cheryl. However, his days were extremely boring, leading the Goblin to start observing Hayley obsessively. She was a delightful enigma and easy on the eyes.

He had noticed that she tended to wear the same thing everyday; either a long-sleeved shirt or buttoned top teamed with suit trousers that appeared a few sizes too big. Her nurse's white lab coat was also too large often drowning her tiny frame. It was clear she was uncomfortable with her body, and since the Goblin knew she was scarred, it was clear that Hayley wanted to hide away from the world. She wore little colour, mainly navy, black and grey; if her hair wasn't so bright she would blend into the walls of Ravencroft. The Goblin recognized she was someone who definitely wanted to go unnoticed. She didn't seem to possess any jewellery either, a shame for a girl so beautiful to not to wear stones or jewels of equal beauty. He could see her in a long evening gown decorated with emerald jewels. Yes, green would look stunning against her pale skin.

"_Green would look gorgeous on her…" _Harry agreed, thinking how before his transformation, green had been his favorite color.

"Weak sentimental fool!" the Goblin chastised, "Though, imagine when we do get our hands on her, she'll be wrapped in our greenness then."

"_Now we're talking! She's different from those models, no where near as bland and exhausting, she's not complicated."_

"She's interesting, very interesting."

"Talking to yourself again Goblin?" Hayley asked casually as she hurriedly entered his cell. Sitting on her usual chair, she noticed that Harry wasn't chained and seated like normal. Instead he was resting on his bed, still cuffed, but covered in bruises. Hayley sucked in her breath sharply, horrified at his swollen face, how shades of blue and purple decorated his neck and bulbous eye. The Goblin's lip was split with dried blood covering his orange jumpsuit. She could tell by the way he was lying that he was suffering from abdominal pain; Harry Osborn looked an absolute mess.

Before she knew what she was doing, Hayley dropped her notebook and files, running forward to kneel beside her injured patient. Being close up and at eye level she could see that the wounds were recent – were they self-inflicted? He had been talking to himself before; maybe it was part of his psychosis? What if his schizophrenic tendencies where worse than she'd previously thought?

The Goblin looked slightly taken aback at Hayley's instantaneous reaction to his condition; she was looking at him as if he were half dead! He didn't look that bad did he? Not that he cared. That brute Colin could do all he wanted because as soon as the Goblin was free he would kill everyone in this wretched place. Except for Ginge. She was too fascinating to kill. He refused to stay away from her especially since she was now initiating contact with him. He glanced at her and could see her hands were raised as if she wanted to touch him. Strange, why would she want to do that, he thought. The Goblin closed his eyes and tried to shift away, wanting to see her true intent.

"Please, don't. Please, let me look at you," Hayley whispered anxiously.

Silently, the Goblin opened his eyes, still a little uncertain as to what her game was. She was staring at him with a worried expression almost like she cared. She's a nurse, the Goblin thought, of course she cares, platonically. He looked at her kneeling beside him and realized sitting up would aid her inspection. The Goblin tried to conceal the true extent of his pain. However he hissed and clutched at his side as he carefully moved his legs over the edge of the bed. Glaring at her, he dared Hayley to say something belittling or comment on the weakness he was displaying.

And yet she did no such thing. Cautiously, Hayley reached her hands towards the myriad of bruises covering his face. The Goblin bared his teeth and raised an eyebrow, daring his little nurse to continue; he couldn't quite believe she was going to touch him of her own free will. Hayley snorted at his behavior. She understood that even in his weakened state, the Goblin still wanted to convey strength and power. Hayley could tell that he feared rejection, a symptom from his father's lack of love, so instead of being put off by his standoffish actions, she continued. When her soft palm tentatively held the side of his face, the Goblin breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. This has to be a dream, he repeated in his head, this isn't real.

But upon feeling her other hand touch the sensitive skin near his black eye, he opened them, wanting visual confirmation of reality. He watched as Hayley's gaze flickered over his face inspecting the many cuts and bruises. She was assessing their severity; his eye needed ice and the cuts required cleaning and dressing.

Hayley's fingers traced his jawbone down to the Goblin's cut lip.

"Don't bite my fingers this time, okay?" she breathed. He smirked at her words but kept silent whilst the tips of her fingers gently warmed his bottom lip with their scrutiny. The Goblin just couldn't help himself. Quickly, he darted out his tongue to taste those delicious digits. Hayley snorted again, shaking her head exasperatedly but not outwardly voicing any bother at his actions.

Next, she tenderly moved her hands to feel his neck where angry red welts blemished his already abnormal skin. It looked as if he'd been choked. The Goblin noticed the bandage still wrapped around her left hand were he'd broken her fingers. He felt a minute twinge of guilt, but instantly put it down to Harry's weak conscious infecting his mind again.

"I need to look at your side," Hayley stated nervously, removing her hands from him.

He looked at her as if she was speaking a foreign language – she could not be serious.

"Your side Goblin. Now, please," she tried once more with a bit more authority.

Christ. She was serious.

Once more, the Goblin decided to let her little game run its course, eager to see how far she'd take this. Instead of helping her, he decided that if she wanted to check his abdomen so much, then she'd have to do it herself. So the Goblin just sat still waiting on her actions. He heard Hayley muttering under her breath about how absurd he was being. It was terribly funny watching her hands fumble nervously as she began to undo the press-stud placket of his Ravencroft regulation jumpsuit; there were eight metal poppers in total before it turned into the trousers half. He noticed how Hayley only undid six before reaching to lift the hem of his white t-shirt worn underneath.

The coolness of her palm gracing his skin made the hairs on the back of his neck stand erect. He'd never known such tenderness, such kindness and understanding from a woman before. Sure Harry had slept with many girls, but that was for fun, just a good fix to pass the time as he drowned himself in alcohol. Never had a woman affected him this much. It was like she actually cared about him. No one had ever cared about him and his well-being. Of course there was Peter, but look how that turned out! Peter had made him into this monster because he didn't care if Harry lived or died. All Peter ever cared about was himself. And here was Ginge, such a fragile creature, treating him like he wasn't a monster, like he was special. She was special.

The Goblin almost didn't hear her small voice, too stuck in his own thoughts of how hungry for life she made him feel.

"How did this happen Goblin? Who did this to you?" Hayley questioned, scared of what the truth might mean. He kept quiet, instead, staring into her worried green eyes intensely; he wasn't going to rat out Colin just yet, where was the fun in that? Hayley gently lifted her hands from the Goblin's side, standing up before him, the moment over.

"I'll be back with a First Aid kit..."

"As if _you _care," the Goblin bit out harshly. He cursed himself internally, damning his quick mouth for being brash when she had displayed such kindness. If his words hurt her, he couldn't tell, for the ginger beauty walked calmly to his cell door. Before she left, Hayley turned;

"You know I do."

* * *

Back at the Nurse's Station, Hayley collected the First Aid kit above her desk, along with extra bandages and a small ice pack from the medical fridge. Luckily no one was around, so she was able to slip a few painkillers into her pocket. She knew there'd be endless questions, the possibility of an investigation or even more physical restraints used on the Goblin if anyone discovered this incident. As much has Hayley wanted to know and understand how this abuse had happened, she also had to think about what was best for her patient above all else; an investigation could lead to her work with Harry being compromised and her position revoked again as his nurse. That was an option she couldn't bare. Any other doctor would just leave him, thinking the monster deserved it whether it was self-inflicted or not. If the Goblin were further restrained or permanently in a straitjacket and padded cell, then his behaviour would deteriorate with no hope for recovery. Plus Doctor Scott would take advantage of a possible schizophrenia diagnosis and probably experiment harshly on Harry. No, Hayley would have to treat her patient's psychosis and physical wounds secretly. Her work would have to be off the books.

As she rushed along the dissertated corridors clutching at her medicinal objects, Hayley continued to think on why she was so determined to help Harry Osborn. Surely, as Gwen's murderer, the Goblin's recovery should be the least of Hayley's priorities. If she hadn't seen the security camera footage revealing Harry's desperation and painful transformation, then maybe she wouldn't be so quick to fulfill her Hippocratic oath. But having spent just over a year at Ravencroft, seeing corrupted doctors abuse their position, the incarcerated show no sign of rehabilitation, Hayley strived to be the most professional nurse in the facility. Besides, she could relate to aspects of Harry's experience. She may not fully understand his mind just yet, but Hayley couldn't deny that she found him fascinating. It was almost like seeing her past self before her; a damaged, unloved, unwanted broken monster. She'd be failing herself if she didn't try to help him.

When she reached Room 136, Hayley was glad to see that Colin was still on his coffee break. She was dreading trying to explain herself to him. The guard had seemed a bit distant this morning, making himself scarce soon after she arrived. There were no jokes or friendly comments, just the cold shoulder treatment. Hayley suspected he was still miffed that she'd been given Harry back as a patient. And as much as she could understand Colin's over protective nature Hayley wished he had more faith in her.

Grandma Carmichael was the only person who had believed in her abilities as an academic and a nurse. After her parent's had died and her Grandma was awarded custody, Hayley was home schooled due to being bullied and ostracized by her friends at the local school. Little Hayley was also experiencing PTSD and psychological trauma. After receiving counseling, Hayley become interested in psychology and human behavior; Grandma Carmichael indulged the child, hoping the attentiveness would allow Hayley some catharsis in her own issues. Hayley was a very smart child and had skipped a couple grades when she was in preschool. Now that she was homeschooled, Hayley began to excel in science and English, taking the majority of her High school exams early. At the age of sixteen, she was sent to England and gained her qualifications in psychology, specializing in human behavioral therapies. When Hayley returned to New York three years later she become the youngest nurse to ever be hired at Ravencroft. Even with her psychology degree Hayley was initially employed as a nurse's assistant until three months before Harry's arrival. And now that she was officially a nurse with her own patients, the other doctor's _still_ questioned her abilities because of her shy and humble nature.

I'll show _them,_ Hayley thought, I'll show them _all_.

Opening the heavy metal door and juggling her medical supplies, Hayley gracelessly entered Harry's room once more. He was in the same position she had left him, sitting on the edge of his bed, now with his eyes closed. As she walked closer to him, the Goblin opened his eyes to observe her placing bandages and rubbing alcohol on the floor by his feet. Hayley kneeled down beside him again and began putting disinfecting gel on her hands. Once Hayley was happy that her hands were clean, minus her two dressed fingers, she took the painkillers from her pocket. She wordlessly placed two pills into the Goblin's cuffed palms and waited for him to place it in his mouth before passing him bottled water.

"Not going to feed them to me this time?" the Goblin purred after swallowing down the tablets.

"I don't trust your mouth with my fingers…" Hayley said, blushing slightly at how inappropriate their conversation sounded. The Goblin smirked at her before handing back the water bottle. Their fingers brushed slightly which only caused Hayley's signature heat rash to brighten on her chest. He gently caressed his nurse's two injured fingers.

"Poor, poor Ginge."

"Poor me? Have you seen yourself today?"

"Have _you _seen yourself?" the Goblin rumbled deeply, removing his hand from hers to run his clawed fingers through a small tendril of her auburn hair. The tension between the two was beginning to build again. He always seemed to be touching her. Maybe the constant contact was a sign of the human in him seeking comfort. Or maybe the Goblin was extremely possessive – either way it made Hayley feel uncomfortable, although she couldn't deny that her heart skipped faster with his affections.

Slowly taking his hand away from her hair, Hayley held both his hands once again, looking into his eyes pleadingly.

"Please let me treat your wounds Goblin," she whispered.

With a roll of his piercing eyes and a huge sigh the Goblin gave in and allowed her to clean the blood from his face. He continued to sit quietly, still as possible but all the while stealing quick glances at her face. Fortunately for Hayley, the Goblin's wounds were only shallow and did not require stitches. All that was needed was just a quick wash with sterile alcohol and a few plasters. Hayley completed her task quickly but methodically before focusing on his bruised side.

"There isn't much I can do about your eye other than ice it, the swelling should go down in a couple of days. The painkillers will help," she told him honestly. Hayley was slightly dreading having to inspect his side again; she was going to have to touch him more intimately, press around the area to assess any permanent damage to the bones underneath. Ideally, an x-ray would be necessary, however Hayley knew that to suggest it to the doctors or Harry would be futile.

"Would you mind lifting your shirt? I need to look at your side again."

"Tut, if you must," the Goblin replied nonchalantly, feigning indifference when in fact he couldn't wait to feel her touch again… "OW!" He quickly grabbed her hands squeezing them in anger. "Don't test my patience _Ginge_!"

"What if you've broken a rib?"

"I'm _fine_."

"I only want what's best for you… as, er, as your nurse, of course," she spoke hurriedly.

Catching his glaring eyes, Hayley engaged in another staring contest, a battle of wills. Would he give in and let her do her job? Or was he too stubborn to show any weakness?

"Of course." Releasing her hands, the Goblin pulled his shirt down. Obviously Hayley wasn't going to win this one. She was surprised however when he reached down to her feet and grabbed the small ice pack she had brought. Giving her look that simply said 'Don't push it', Hayley returned to her seat while the Goblin placed the cold compress underneath his shirt.

"I don't want to tire you out, but do you think you'd be up for a colour word association exercise?" Hayley didn't want to push him, especially after his ordeal, but this was a therapy session and they had yet to talk properly. With a small nod of approval from him, Hayley began to go down the list of colours she had written in her notebook;

"Purple?"

"Bruise," he said with a small smile.

"Grey?"

"Ravencroft."

"Black?"

"Coffee." He chuckled lightly as Hayley made a disgusted face at his preferred choice of beverage.

"White?"

"_Innocence_," came a smooth voice, very different from the Goblin's distinctive deep rumbling tone. Hayley tried not to give a reaction to the voice change.

"Yellow"

"_Blondes_." When Hayley looked at him questioningly, he continued, "_they're so_ _exhausting."_ She smiled to herself, noting down that the old Harry seemed to be easing through the cracks.

"They're heavy too," the Goblin grinned wickedly, causing Hayley's own smile to vanish when she realized he was referring to Gwen. Perhaps Harry wasn't coming back just yet.

"Blue?"

"Fairy godmother."

"Green?"

"Monster." Obviously referring to himself, Hayley thought, slightly predictable but understandable.

"Red?"

"Spider-Man!" he said with venom. She hadn't considered the masked hero as an option; normally patients chose love or blood, or her own personal choice, fire. The Goblin seemed to have a few issues with the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Maybe he was experience PTSD from their fight. That could be one possibility of how the Goblin had become injured; violent night terrors induced by PTSD. Writing down her thoughts, Hayley continued with the last color association word.

"Orange?"

"_You_."

"Me?" Hayley squeaked in surprise.

"Well, I don't see anyone else in my room with orange hair, do you? _Hmmm_?"

She was blushing again; Hayley could feel the heat radiating from her chest and had noticed the Goblin staring at her hungrily. He really needed to stop paying her compliments because it was starting to interfere with their professional relationship, well what was left of it anyway. Maybe it was just the smooth and suave Harry Osborn breaking through. Since Hayley had never known his personality before the Goblin transformation had altered him, she couldn't be sure that all the compliments weren't his playboy inclinations resurfacing. She'd have to try and ignore his comments for now, ignore the way the butterflies in her stomach fluttered when he spoke, and ignore how when he looked at her, she felt like she wasn't alone anymore.

"Don't space out on me Ginge; it's just you and _me_." Licking his lips the Goblin continued to stare at her, "So did I pass your little colour exam?"

"I, er, it wasn't really a test."

"_Or did you just want to know my preference_?"

"What preference?" Now Hayley was really confused.

"_Well, you already know I find blondes exhausting, and if you'd said brown, you'd know I find them boring. That only leaves you," _Harry remarked smoothly.

"I'm sorry, that leaves me what?"

The Goblin looked at her like she was stupid. "Leaves you – a ginger. Redheads are so rare, especially copper colour like yours_… _that means _you _are _special."_

"You're green, so I think that makes you pretty special too," Hayley joked, trying to lighten the mood and divert the conversation off her. He smiled, noticing how his flirting was making her nervous.

"I guess it does make me special. _Very_ special indeed."

* * *

Hayley entered her apartment, exhausted. She'd taken a short detour after work to visit Gwen and had put fresh pink hydrangeas on her grave. Pink wasn't Gwen or Hayley's favourite colour but they'd always joked how their My Little Pony toys were the exact opposite of their personalities; Hayley loved black and Gwen had adored blue, their pony toys however were powder pink and cream. They'd been giving each other pink hued flowers and girly joke presents ever since.

She was about to close her front door when her landlord, Mr. Boothroyd, coughed to catch her attention. Her landlord was in his late fifties and had always been kind to her, even before her Grandma had died. However, he rarely left the basement of the apartment block in which he lived, so to see him probably meant she was in trouble.

"Hi Mr. Boothroyd," Hayley smiled pleasantly, "haven't seen you in a while, how have you been?"

"Hayley dear, I've come about the rent." Mr. Boothroyd was not one for small talk, always direct and to the point, which was one of the reasons Hayley liked him so much. She had been dreading seeing him since the month's end, knowing that her latest rent check would most likely bounce. Being two months' late was unforgivable and Mr. Boothroyd would only tolerate one month of no pay.

"Oh, has the money not gone in?" she shifted nervously trying to play dumb to the problem at hand.

"It has love. I'm sorry but I have bills to pay too."

"I know, but I've got a meeting tomorrow at work," Hayley lied, "I've been promoted since I'm now working with a high priority patient, so, my pay will increase."

Mr Boothroyd nodded, oblivious to her lies. He cared about the young girl and only wanted her to succeed in her line of work – she deserved a happy life.

"Would I be able to pay you in two weeks? The extra pay will be through then," said Hayley, feeling relieved when her landlord nodded and began to walk away from her apartment. Quickly shutting the door behind her, Hayley leaned against it, sinking down to the floor. She tried not to cry but could feel tears prickling in her eyes. When they threatened to spill down her cheeks, Hayley rubbed away the tears, wishing desperately that the lie she'd told Mr. Boothroyd could be true.

She'd always been poor. Even though her Grandma had used her own savings to send Hayley to England for education, they'd always struggled for money. It was worse now that she had to pay her own bills and rent. It was at times like this that Hayley craved to be rich like Harry Osborn; money was necessary for survival and not to be taken for granted like the playboy millionaire did. Sobbing into her hands, Hayley could no longer contain her fear and worries about the future. She crawled towards her handbag that she'd dropped on the floor. Slipping her hand inside, Hayley removed a box of pills, popping three into her mouth, more than the recommended dose. She only wanted to the numb the pain for a little while - she wasn't a suicidal person. After taking a few sips from the water bottle in her bag, Hayley moved to lie on the sofa, hoping that in a drug induced sleep, she would be able to find peace.

* * *

**Sorry I haven't updated in a week; I really wanted this chapter to be extra long. I also just moved back home from University so it's been a busy time.**

**Not too sure if I've ever established Hayley's age :/ When I first began to write, I looked up Harry's character age in the comics, which is late 20's whereas in the movies he is 18/19 because of Peter just graduating High School – as I'm from England and have a different school system, I got a tad confused but have amended it now after some research. So to clarify, Hayley is 20 and Harry is 19 – sorry if this has caused confusion guys! ****QUICK CHANGE, thank you to my reviewers who told me that Harry IS 20 in TASM - so both characters are 20 yay :D ******

**I love you all my beautiful readers and reviewers! I literally go fangirl hysterical when I get a message on my dashboard! Hope you enjoyed this chapter - as always, any feedback, criticism or love is appreciated :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**I do not own Marvel, Spider-Man, or any of the characters in my franchise - just my OC.**

* * *

She was alone in the Nurse's station after one of her sessions with the Goblin. Another week had passed, almost too quickly for Hayley's liking. Therapy with Harry was going well; she'd been sneaking him pain medication secretly in their sessions as well as an anti-psychotic drug, Quetiapine. Along with the sleeping pills, the Goblin's anger and mood swings were subsiding – even his skin was noticeably less green! She hadn't told Harry that he was taking schizophrenia medication because she was certain that he would refuse their consumption. As it was, Hayley was constantly on edge, scared that the other doctors would discover the missing medication if they did an inventory check. It was fortunate that this month Cadence had asked Hayley to do the check allowing her to effectively forge the stock amounts. Hayley had never approved of stealing and having to steal prescription drugs of all things was extremely risky. She could loose her medical license if she were ever discovered. The risk was almost too great. And yet, seeing Harry respond so well to the course of medication, made it worth it. It was like Hayley's ability as a nurse and psychologist was being validated with his improved condition. Of course, Doctor Scott was seething, even furious that Harry Osborn was being humanized with something as simple, to his knowledge, as sleeping pills and behavior therapy. There was no doubt in Hayley's mind that the doctor had thought up some tortuous treatment for him. If she could keep Harry from that then she was doing her job.

Reflecting on their previous sessions, Hayley was extremely happy how the Goblin was beginning to retreat and Harry was breaking through more and more. They were able to have involved and coherent conversations with his bipolar personality more under control. The Quetiapine medication restored the balance of neurotransmitters in the brain keeping his mania and psychosis to a minimum. Quetiapine also decreased hallucinations in prescribed patients; Harry hadn't had any night terrors or suffered more unexplained injuries since she'd been giving him the pills. Another aspect that made Hayley cheerful was how Harry's skin was no longer scaly and the green tinge was slowly fading. Sure he still had long fingernails and lesion like wounds where his skin pigmentation was darker, but after being in Ravencroft for just over two months, Harry Osborn was fairing well.

However, Hayley couldn't forget the moment when she'd questioned him about Peter Parker. He had become so angry, in a split second, like a switch and been flicked in his brain. It was strange considering they were meant to be friends; they'd known each other since childhood like she and Gwen. But if Gwen's death was anything to go by, Harry clearly did have an issue with Parker. Why else would he murder his best friend's girlfriend? It was a conversation they had yet to have in therapy and one that Hayley was truly dreading. She would have to shut away the part of herself who loved Gwen in order to not start screaming at the Goblin when she finally knew the truth; why did Gwen have to die?

During that same conversation Harry had also become a darker shade of green with his veins pulsing wildly. Hayley noticed that it often happened during his mood swings or when he was extremely angry. This led to her theory that like many other medical conditions, the Goblin-like symptoms were exacerbated by stress. The condition he'd inherited from his father, the Osborn curse, was one shrouded in great mystery. Only Norman Osborn, his personal physicians and OsCorp knew the true extent and severity of Retroviral Hyperplasia; Hayley did not have access to any files that might aid her treatment of Harry in regards to his illness. She was only a psychologist and did not fully understand or have the medical knowledge to combat such an unknown and aggressive disease. Doctor Scott and his team were still in the process of analyzing Harry's blood sample. If they had already discovered something then Hayley knew she would be the last to know.

Frustrated with theories and having no concrete medical data, Hayley slammed closed her notebook and threw a pen at her keyboard. She was feeling restless and began to swing around on her swivel desk chair. It didn't really matter if anyone discovered her acting like an idiot because if Ravencroft didn't make you loose your nut then nothing would. There was something so freeing about spinning in her chair.

Her solitude was short lived when Cheryl and another new blonde nurse, Becca, entered the room gossiping about nonsense. Hayley didn't like the new girls; they basically ignored her, followed Doctor Scott around like he was god, and were always flirting with the guards. They reminded her of some High School girls she saw when meeting Gwen on a free period. The two girls were sitting near Hayley with their backs to her, chewing bubble gum and admiring each other's fake nails. The whole scene made Hayley want to gag because they were so nauseatingly stereotypical.

"Haley is it?" Cheryl asked suddenly, popping another bubble of gum absentmindedly. God that sound was so grating on the ears, Hayley thought.

"It's Hayley."

"Yeah, well, that patient of yours, Mr. Osborn…"

"You mean Harry."

"You what?"

"Harry. He doesn't like being called Mr. Osborn," Hayley corrected before realizing what she was doing.

"Whatever. _Harry,_ nearly ruined my new nails last week." Another pop of gum followed and Cheryl shoved her jewel manicured nails in front of Hayley – proof that he hadn't done anything but if he had, it would obviously be a horrific loss for the trashy girl.

Nodding, Hayley sighed, not having time for stupid insignificant problems like damaged nails. "Ok. And _what_ exactly did my patient do?"

More bursting bubble gum snaps and hair flipping followed.

"He _threatened_ to break my fingers!" Cheryl replied with attitude while Becca stroked the vulnerable hand in question to emphasize the apparent danger. Clearly ruined nails were more perilous than broken bones, Hayley thought sarcastically.

Showing the two blonde twits her still bandaged broken fingers, Hayley tried to reprimand them for not telling her earlier, "I take threats from my patient very seriously. Why am I only hearing about this now? You should have written an incident report and told me the next day!"

"It's not like he actually did it! God Haley chill!"

"I reckon he fancies you hun," Becca laughed, nudging the other girl – the whole situation was obviously just one big laugh for them. "He was gorgeous before he went psycho! And a millionaire too!"

"I know right? But no, _apparently _my hands aren't 'worthy' or some nonsense," Cheryl scoffed.

"Oh my god as if he said that! You were a hand model for Yves Saint Laurent!"

"I know Becca! Clearly, he doesn't recognize true beauty when he sees it."

The whole conversation was really giving Hayley a headache. She honestly couldn't stand being around such vapid false people. Picking up her notebook and handbag, Hayley decided to go find Colin or maybe get a sandwich from the canteen. Anything to get away from Tweedledum and Tweedledee.

"Obviously Haley is _worthy _of Harry Osborn's attentions!"

Hayley stopped in her tracks and looked down at her broken fingers. Glancing back, the peroxide twins were now whispering about her behind their hands. She must have had a dumbfounded look on her face because Becca continued on;

"Well, he broke your fingers didn't he? So you're worthy."

Continuing out the door without a word Hayley left the girls to their gossip. However, Becca's comment would make her think for sometime about how Harry viewed their relationship. What did 'worthy' mean to him?

"Worthy? Me? Yeah right," Hayley said to herself uneasily, suddenly not feeling very hungry anymore.

* * *

"Your hair's changed!"

"_Hmmmm? Oh you noticed?"_

It was the morning after her conversation with dumb and dumber, and Hayley was feeling tired but determined to make some progress in her session with Harry today. She'd noticed a change in his appearance as soon as she entered his cell, only truly seeing it when sitting down on her usual chair opposite him.

The Goblin's hair was no longer pushed back in a spikey shape mimicking the dome of his head. He must of used water from the sink in his room to brush his hair into resembling his old sophisticated style. Hayley had only ever seen Harry look like this in newspaper images; it suited him having a side parting and a long sweeping fringe. He looked more human, more like his former self. She'd hate to admit it but having his pretty boy fringe back made the butterflies in her stomach start flapping like crazy.

"Well, you can barely see behind that fringe," Hayley smirked, as Harry flipped his hair expertly so he could now look directly at her – it clearly took skill to toss it in such a casual fashion. He had definitely practiced it all his life, Hayley was sure of it. She then started to giggle as his fringe played truant and flopped back to cover his blue eyes – it was nice to see Harry starting to become more dominant, even though his outward appearance was only just starting to improve and was not completely normal yet.

"_Maybe it does need a cut,"_ he said idly, flicking the long hairs with his still claw like fingers. Harry then eyed Hayley and made a cutting motion with his fingers.

"Hey don't look at me! I'm sure that haircut cost over $100, and a millionaire like yourself…"

"_It's billionaire."_

"I'm sorry?" she asked feeling confused.

"_My father become a billionaire when I was ten."_

Jeez, Hayley thought, at ten I was dirt poor with no family or possessions, and the Osborn name was worth a billion dollars… clearly I was born into the wrong family.

"Well, I'm sure a _billionaire_ like you would not want me playing Sweeny of money, what was it like growing up in such luxury?"

"_Luxurious." _

"Come on, I'm being serious."

"I had everything I ever wanted or could ever possibly want," the Goblin said bitterly; Hayley noticed how his voice seemed to deepen and his eyes narrowed upon recollection. Clearly this was a sore subject and Harry had retreated to protect himself from a painful memory.

"Material items, correct?"

He gave a small nod in response.

"I'm sure that was not what you truly wanted, Harry. I mean, at the time, it probably was but children with parental issues can sometimes become materialistic, especially those of wealth. They seek any type of love or attention, even if it is a simple thing like being bought toys," she spoke kindly, hoping that a calm and friendly voice would make her assessment of him a little bit easier to swallow. Though the way he was dangerously staring at her told Hayley that the Goblin was starting to get pissed off. However, she continued on, holding her ground against a possible and imminent mood swing episode.

"Though during adolescence the rebellious nature kicks in. Was that around the time you developed an alcohol addiction and abused Oxycodone?"

Hayley had read now unsealed files on how Norman Osborn sent his son to a total of three rehabilitation clinics within a year. They were all very expensive places with a strict confidentiality policy. To her knowledge the media had never reported on his addiction or rehab visits, only that Harry was a party animal, which was to be expected from a teenage _billionaire_. When she received no verbal response and a blank stare, Hayley tried to engage him in the conversation.

"I know you might not have anything to say Goblin, but maybe Harry does?" Hayley asked hopefully. Even though the bipolar episodes were becoming less and less, releasing Harry from the monster's hold, they were still happening during their time together. Hayley was finding it difficult to ever get a straight answer from Harry about his issues because the Goblin always intervened when he felt personally attacked. It was frustrating for a psychologist to be unable to work through, let alone discuss, deep seeded and obvious issues. If Hayley couldn't bring some closure or understanding for Harry, then his Goblin side would always be with him whether he was green or not. Even though his medical records pre transformation did not suggest or document any traces of schizophrenia, they did highlight his aggression and short temper. Hayley theorized that the formula injection must have heightened this personality aspect.

Hayley knew from what Gwen had told her about Doctor Connors reptile metamorphosis the previous year, that he too experienced personality changes. She'd even witnessed the man talking to himself during a psychosis episode when she visited the East Wing once.

Harry was looking at her like she was stupid, again.

Leaning forward and clasping his hands together, the Goblin gave her a penetrating and deathly stare, "Are you suggesting that I have multiple personalities?"

"No. What I am saying is that during times of great trauma, one can internalize themselves, hiding their true self as a protective counter measure. Sometimes suppression…"

"And what do _I_ have to suppress?!" the Goblin snarled, standing from his bed in anger. Provoking any beast was a bad idea, and a caged one was suicide, but Hayley would not be bullied into silence. Everyone had issues and the Goblin would have to let Harry work through them one way or another. Therefore she remained seated and tried not to show how her body was shaking from the adrenaline rush his sudden out burst had caused.

Hayley decided that maybe the truth might enlighten him; "I'm going to be truthful with you Goblin, but _only_ if you sit down."

When he finally complied after what seemed like an internal battle of wills, Hayley continued, "I think that your id is extremely dominant. Are you familiar with Freud's theory of the unconscious Id, Ego and Super-Ego? No? Well, the id is described by Freud as pure chaos; a dark inaccessible part of our personality. Now, I think the venom you injected yourself with has made your id accessible…"

"And you consider this a bad thing?" the Goblin asked curious of her response.

"It might be," she said nervously, "the id is labeled as ones' negative contrast to our ego - it knows no judgment of value: no good and evil, no morality…"

"Is this your diagnosis of me? Pure evil."

"You're not evil Harry, there is darkness is in all of us," she spoke truthfully, thinking about her own id and the damage it had once done.

There came a knock from outside which was Colin signaling that the session was over. Hayley sighed but felt quite positive about revealing how Harry fit into Freud's theory – maybe it would help him understand the deeper connotations of his transformation. She gave him a hopeful smile before gathering herself and walking towards the cell exit. Upon reaching the door, Hayley remembered her conversation with the peroxide tweedles yesterday and spun around to ask Harry one final question.

"What is your definition of 'worthy'?"

He looked at her strangely, caught off guard by such a specific and odd query. Hayley began to feel nervous again when Harry stood and gracefully walked towards her. Although he was still cuffed at the hands and feet, after many many weeks at Ravencroft, he had learnt to adapt to his confines. Sometimes Hayley forgot they were even there.

Harry was now standing directly in front of her; he cut an imposing figure even though they were the same height. He was so close to Hayley that she could feel his breath on her cheek. Cupping her small face, Harry stared into her green eyes, wanting her to focus on what he had to say.

"_Being 'worthy' is something special that deserves my attention and appeals to my ego…" _he whispered softly, stroking the skin of her porcelain face. She was trembling, he could feel it, but it did not deter his advances. She had looked so determined today, Harry thought, the way she would not back down, persisting with her theories and assessment of him – it was a refreshing change from bland models. Hell, it was sexy.

He licked his lips, desperately wanting to kiss the girl before him. What made Harry not act on his wants was being unsure of how she would respond. All their other interacts were him toying with the nurse, seeing how far he could push her because he was bored. But he could no longer deny the attraction he felt to the ginger girl – if he kissed her there was no turning back, and she could easily reject him.

It was then that Hayley saw the gentleness of Harry disappear; he moved his grip to her hands, squeezing the broken fingers just enough to make her gasp in pain.

"To be worthy, you have to appeal to both my ego _and _my id!_"_ the Goblin stated darkly, making Hayley really hope she wasn't worthy.

* * *

**Oh my gosh you guys are amazing! Thank you to my lovely loyal review readers ****XLil MEkoX****, ****Castiel Angel Heart****, ****TreeKangaroo****, ****Spazaroni****,**** to my new readers/reviewers, and also to all my guests who I wish I could reply to!**

**And thank you for everyone who corrected the age issues I was having with Harry! I've only seen TASM2 at the cinema once so I'm going purely on memory and YouTube videos. Also guys, don't worry, Harry will be resurfacing, the Goblin won't be here forever, Harry is coming back like at the movies end - I'm trying to explore the five month period he was at Ravencroft **_**and **_**beyond that when he is back as Harry Osborn. **

**I hope my chopping and changing between the Goblin and Harry isn't too confusing and that I write it clearly so it reads well!**

**Also, face claim for Hayley is a model called Josephine Skriver, if she had ginger hair :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**I do not own Marvel, Spider-Man, or any other characters associated with the franchise – just Hayley my OC.**

**NOTE: Ok, so now that Harry is becoming stronger and the Goblin weaker, I'm now assigning italics for when the Goblin speaks instead of Harry, because the Goblin is now becoming the inner voice. It'll become clearer below but I hope I don't confuse you all and you understand the change in font thing :D**

* * *

After his nurse had left, Harry sat down in front of his mirror, like he had numerous times before. What was different however was that he could finally see that the hideousness that plagued him was starting to disappear. Peter forcing his hand in using the serum had hopefully not done any long-term permanent damage. It was encouraging for Harry, he felt more confident, relieved that he no longer looked like a monster.

"_Confident? You? HA!" _mocked the Goblin.

"Look, if what Hayley said was true, then you and me, are one and the same! We should be working together!"

"_Ginge has some extraordinary theories! Besides, you couldn't bring yourself to kiss her, coward!"_

"What, and have her never treat us again? We have to be more suave than that. Wooing a lady takes sophistication and tact, which _you_ know nothing about," Harry bit back, "Besides, you keep getting in the way."

"_Me? I do everything you can't do! Won't do!" _exclaimed the Goblin feeling irritated at Harry's sudden newfound certainty.

"Then why didn't _you_ kiss her? Exactly, you know I'm right!" Harry retorted, crossing his arms in triumph. "If we are _ever _going to have a chance with Hayley, and I mean a _real_ chance, then we can't stay in Ravencroft."

"_Go on…"_ The Goblin's interest sparked, curious now.

"We need to get our revenge on Spider-Man and we can't do it in this cell! If we are to ever get released from here then we have to appear as if we have been rehabilitated. They will never release the Goblin back into New York, but Harry Osborn, the rightful CEO of OsCorp, well, they just might."

"_The only way of escape, is for Ginge to proclaim us sane, well, and rehabilitated, correct?"_ the Goblin questioned, slowly coming round to Harry's way of thinking.

"Exactly! As soon as we are free, we can make plans to eliminate Peter, take back control of OsCorp and find a cure to our curse!"

"_And then Ginge will be ours!"_

Smirking in agreement with his id in the mirror, Harry nodded; "Then Hayley will be mine."

* * *

It was eight in the evening; Hayley had finally decided to do some grocery shopping with the little money she had, conscious that Mr. Boothroyd's rent deadline was looming. Therefore the only objects she had in her shopping bags were three big bottles of Pepsi, twenty Pot Noodles and a rather withered looking bunch of grapes – her standard daily menu for the next two weeks. The other food she had at home were Cornflakes and some limes; as a member of the medical community, Hayley knew that her eating habits were abnormal but hard times called for desperate measures! Its not like her wages could afford much more when there was double rent to pay, plus bills. Her bags seemed heavier than usual, maybe a subconscious reflection of the many issues weighing on her mind.

Either way, after walking a good mile from her local grocery store, Hayley was practically dragging the bags on the sidewalk; her spindly arms just couldn't take the load. She was stood outside her apartment block catching her breath underneath a lamppost. The thought of having to climb five flights was really not Hayley's idea of fun. Sighing, she leaned against the post, trying to relax her body and conserve her strength. It was then that Hayley felt like she was being watched. The street was practically dead, bar a few taxis and unfriendly looking drunks. Considering her rent was so high, Hayley did live in quite a dodgy area of downtown New York. Spider-Man made the citizens feel safe, even in these parts, but he hadn't been sighted for over two months. She felt uneasy, and when the drunks spotted her she practically ran to the apartment block entrance.

"Oomph!"

In her rush, Hayley had walked right into a tall man – she prayed it wasn't a smelly hobo! Her Pot Noodles went flying and the Pepsi bottles were well and truly fizzed up. Hayley swore loudly and rubbed her bruised bum when she stood up. The man was hurriedly picking up her dispersed shopping, stuffing the offending food into the plastic bags – she still had yet to see his face. When he was done, the man picked up the bags, shuffled his feet awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.

"Er, hey, Hayley. Hi," Peter Parker spoke clumsily, "Sor…sorry about your shopping. Didn't see you there you know, you're so, so small, never noticed that before." He shrugged and began lifting her shopping up and down pretending like he was working out. Parker was so delightfully awkward that Hayley could see why Gwen had fallen for him.

"Well it's not like we've ever hung out properly," she muttered before noticing how Peter's face fell, "but, what I mean is, well, thanks. Thank you Peter," Hayley continued, motioning to her shopping he was still pumping animatedly. He smiled quickly, a reassurance that her words didn't really affect him. They stood uncomfortably, looking at each other in wait for a cue on what to do next.

"I guess I better take my stuff upstairs..."

"Hey, well, you could, but, you know, I could do that," Peter said before racing inside the building.

"What? Parker, hey wait a minute!" Hayley barely saw him leave her side he was so quick like a ninja. She rushed in after him shouting, "It's like five flights of stairs you nut!"

"Only five? I'll race ya," he beamed and like a silly schoolboy Peter leaped up the stairs taking two at a time. All Hayley could think was how did someone have so much energy!

It took her a full ten minutes to finally catch up to him; Hayley was practically crawling up the last flight while Peter was sitting on the top step juggling three of her noddle pots.

"Fan of chicken huh?" he spoke in jest, raising his eyebrow before throwing one of the pots at her tired crumpled form, who was now resting on the steps below him.

"Yeah, they give me energy."

"Looks like you need it," laughed Peter as she gave him a sassy look, "you got that whole exhausted girl thing going on right now."

Hayley slowly got to her feet and began rustling about in her handbag for the apartment door keys. It was rather unfortunate in this moment that her favourite colour was black because the dark lining of her bag made it impossible to locate her belongings. In frustration she tipped it upside down watching for the keys to fall out along with her other belongings. She was so tired and forgot what her bag contained; a work notebook, various pens, small change, mascara, her iPod, the missing keys, stolen medication and Harry's case file.

She froze when Peter picked up her pills. Her worst fears were coming true; she'd been caught! Rattling the two medication strips, Peter looked at the names and then to Hayley inquisitively.

"These are, wow, Amitriptyline and Quetiapine, that's some pretty heavy stuff here Carmichael!"

Wincing at the use of her surname, she tried to play the situation cool, "Ha ha yes um they are but they're not for me! No! I found them. I mean, one of the new nurses was stealing them and I caught her, must of forgot to put them back," Hayley laughed before snatching them back and stuffing everything but her keys into her bag, "Silly me!"

Hastily, Hayley unlocked the door and entered her apartment, leaving Peter to follow in with the shopping. She felt a little embarrassed to have him see her home; no one had ever visited her before. The place was a bit messy and sparse of any comfort or personal belongings, apart from a small selection of books and a frame with Grandma Carmichael's image. Her flat only had a small kitchenette and was open plan, leading into the living room that held a ratty sofa, standard television and a bookshelf. Then there were three doors, two with actual doors that led to the bathroom and her Grandma's old bedroom. The room without a door and just an empty frame was hers, and only had a bed, chest of draws and a clothing rack. It was surprising how finally letting someone into her world made Hayley realise how poor she truly was. However after a quick glance, Peter didn't seem phased and proceeded to dump the groceries on the kitchen counter. He eyed the bin over following with noddle pots and chuckled slightly at her strange food addiction. They both then stood staring at each other wondering what to do next. Peter slowly started to unpack the food, looking like he had something to say but was too nervous to speak.

"So, how's work? How's, how is _he?_" asked Peter casually not quite meeting her gaze, avoiding the use of his former friends name, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Hayley. She also detected a hint of acidity that really didn't sound right coming from Peter's mouth.

"I'm sorry Parker but I can't discuss my patients with you."

"How, how can you even be treating him? Gwen is dead because of him!" he said suddenly whilst ferociously popping grapes into his mouth and munching on them like candy, "Isn't it like a conflict of interest? Hayley, he is trouble."

"Conflict of…maybe. Well, it's not like I have a choice here Peter. He chose me! He's killed people because they wouldn't let me be his nurse. I don't have a choice…"

"No! No, no don't you bullsh… I mean, argh, Mother Hubbard! This is bloody ridiculous!"

"Peter look, I know this must be upsetting…"

"No! Don't tell me… don't psychoanalyse me!" By this point Peter was pacing in anger and shouting, "Are _you_ not upset? You talk as if you don't _care_ that she's DEAD! You see him everyday and you say I'm upset? How are you not a sobbing mess?"

"Maybe I am Parker, maybe I fucking am! Ok? Is that what you want to hear? Do you want to know how I cry myself to sleep every night? How my whole life now revolves around a murderer!" she fought back, finally revealing her true feelings, "Jeez, I even have nightmares about him!"

"Do you hear yourself? How about you just don't treat him!"

"God dammit Peter! I can't! He needs me…" Hayley made a grab for a Pepsi bottle and furiously turned the cap. The carbonated liquid inside exploded in her face, drenching her in three seconds. She threw the bottle away from her in shock, accidently aiming it at Peter in her hast, who caught it with skill but still managed to get wet. Both were breathing heavily from the Pepsi outburst and staring at each other's damp form. It was Hayley who giggled first.

"You look like a drowned rat!" she laughed, shaking her hands to try and rid herself of excess liquid. Peter cracked an infectious smile, making Hayley beam when he waved his head around like a dog trying to get dry.

"Hey, I find that insulting to rats! Besides, I'm much better looking," he joked whilst backing away towards the front door. Hayley followed him with her eyes, sensing that their time together was up. When he opened the door, Peter looked back, fixing her with a serious expression.

"Carmichael, I get that you're his nurse, but remember, you were Gwen's friend before he ever became your patient." And with his piece said, Peter gave her a small smile and left.

* * *

Peter Parker had been gone about an hour and all Hayley had done was clean up the Pepsi mess and have a very long cold shower. All the while thinking about what he had said. Parker was right of course, she knew he was. Harry represented a patient that she had every right to hate; he had murdered her friend and ruined many lives when he released Electro from Ravencroft. But what she had told Peter was true. Hayley did cry every night, she cried her herself to sleep. The night was the only time when Hayley let herself truly feel, to think about everything, to remember that Gwen was gone and that Harry was responsible. It killed her inside having to treat him because every time she entered Room 136, Hayley felt like she was betraying Gwen.

The only reason that Hayley believed that treating him was the right thing to do, was the memory of her old professor telling her what type of therapist she was. Apparently, Hayley was a rare breed of shrink – she didn't analyse a patient and detach herself from the discussed issues. No, she was a therapist who could empathise with her patients, preferring to identify with them to better aid her assessment and treatment techniques. Hayley got a buzz from connecting with patients; it reminded her that she was not alone in this fucked up world that other people were as messed up as she. Helping people made her feel better, because no one had helped her when she was a child. Being alone in your psychosis was destructive and dangerous, and even though she knew Harry was a monster, weren't there monsters in all of us?

She desperately wanted to remain passive with him and be cold and distant in their sessions. However it never seemed to happen, because Hayley had never met anyone more like herself. Minus the whole murder thing. Harry had chosen her for a reason. The way he touched her, appeared to need her, rely on her, it was amazing; Hayley had never felt wanted before. In their previous session when he had held her face so tenderly it felt like he cared about her. Their bodies had been so close that Hayley thought he was going to kiss her. Harry had this look in his eye like he was really seeing her. The thing that scared her the most about that moment, was not when the Goblin broke through, but that she wanted him to kiss her.

The professional inside her was screaming how wrong that was. Except Hayley could no longer ignore the butterflies inside her and how often she experienced heat rash around him. Harry was captivating and as much as she hated to admit it, he _was_ attractive. Even though he was still a bit green and had claw fingernails, the addition of his pretty boy fringe made him look semi normal again. She could almost see the Harry Osborn from all the newspaper articles. And to think that someone like that might find her 'worthy' was just mind blowing!

Rubbing her forehead, Hayley could feel a headache coming on from all her conflicting thoughts. Currently, she was sat cross-legged on her bed with her laptop on and notebook open doing some research. She was getting increasingly annoyed at the lack of information she had about the Osborn family curse of Retroviral Hyperplasia. And its not like Doctor Scott was forth coming with any useful information. There was hardly anything written about the disease on the Internet and all the files about it on the OsCorp intranet were, of course, classified. Hayley had jotted down a few things but would have to ask Harry to fill in the blanks. All she had discovered in the past thirty minutes was that the disease was hereditary; it was degenerative and attacked the cells, mutating them. Hyperplasia simply meant 'the growth of tumors' - this explained Harry's skin discoloration and growth of painful sores. Other than that, the disease was fatal as had been the case for Norman Osborn. Hayley couldn't find much else. She knew from its name, Retroviral, that in the nucleolus of the cell, RNA was the culprit virus for it stored its own genetic information and inserted a copy of its genome into the host in order to replicate. One of the most well known retroviruses was HIV.

Hayley thought she was loosing her mind when she found herself clicking on an article about skin lesions in sexually mature fish. Apparently, a virus called Walleye epidermal hyperplasia infected the North American Walleye fish when they reach adulthood, though signs could be spotted during adolescence. It caused skin lesions and was released by water particles harboring the disease, as well as coming in close contact with other fish. What interested Hayley the most about the fish virus was the theories behind why flare-ups occurred during the summer months; there was something to do with low water temperatures and immune suppression that she didn't take much notice of. What _did_ interest Hayley was how the lesions grew worse when the fish were under psychological and physiological stress associated sexual reproduction.

"Interesting how the Osborn curse manifests during adolescence," Hayley theorized out loud, "Right when growth hormones and testosterone are in abundance, like when the Walleye's a sexual mature."

She then proceeded to look up all the varieties of skin lesions to better understand the ones that were appearing on Harry now that his all over green hue was subsiding. Of course, none of the images on the Internet came close to mirroring Harry's wounds. If anything, they reminded Hayley of her own angry scars. Her back was beginning to hurt now that she'd been sat hunched over at the laptop for over an hour. She carefully rubbed the base of her spine but stopped when she felt something strange. Hayley brought her hand up to her face and felt sick upon seeing thick red liquid on her fingertips.

Racing to the bathroom, Hayley ripped off her pajama top, flicked on the light and turned her back to the mirror. She desperately craned her neck trying to find the source of the blood. What Hayley saw made tears swell in both her emerald green eyes; along the vertebrae of her spine the skin was broken and bleeding. Her scars looked angry and irritated. In her mind, Hayley knew how the small wounds had been caused – stress. That, and her noddle addiction. Well, maybe not the food per say but the _lack_ of food. She was too thin for her height and Hayley hadn't been able to buy proper food since her Grandma had died.

Hayley reached for some plasters and her burn cream, dressing the wounds and rubbing lotion on her back. It was then she realized she'd been so tired since treating Harry that she had neglected using the medicinal cream. In the mirror, all that was reflected was a pasty ghost of a girl whose sparkle had long disappeared and ginger hair was starting to loose its luster. Wiping away her tears, Hayley clothed herself again and walked to the kitchen to make a late night chicken Pot Noodle.

* * *

There had been an issue with the redhead murderer, Mark Kinsey, who had been in court on a retrial under the plea of non-insanity. This meant Hayley had been otherwise detained giving her medical opinion on Kinsey's psychosis and their sessions. Unable to see Harry for three days, she was happy to be back in the West wing to act on her research into his condition. Colin was still acting weird and as much as Hayley wanted to confront him about it, she was too exhausted from lack of sleep and the drama of being in court. She gave the guard a small smile and was surprised when he didn't immediately open the door for her.

"Ya look like shit kid!" sniffed Colin as he folded his arms across his burly chest.

"Do I?" Hayley sighed tightening her ponytail, "I've never been in court before, and it was quite stressful."

"Kinsey righ'? Yeah 'e's a sick son bitch ain't he?"

"Sick, yes. Insane? Yes. How has Harry been?" Hayley asked hopefully.

"Not done much. Told 'im yous were in court. Hasn't gone mental yet."

"Good! That's encouraging right?"

"Yup," the guard said shortly while he opened the cell door, waiting for Hayley to enter, and then closed it quickly with a bang.

Everything in his cell still looked the same as the day she'd left but there was something vastly different about her patient. Harry was draped over his bed, still cuffed, hands behind his head and whistling a strange tune. He was wearing the same orange jumpsuit, his fringe was still too long, hands still with long talon nails. However, what Hayley noticed, was how his skin was no longer green; gone was his usual jaundiced hue that she had grown familiar with. Even his darkened veins had lost their tinge and raised like quality. Other than crusty nasty looking skin lesions, Harry Osborn looked normal. Better than normal, he looked bloody handsome, Hayley thought.

He hadn't bothered to glance at her yet, allowing Hayley to just stand and stare in wonderment of her patient's transformation back into his former self.

"If you take a picture it'll last longer," Harry spoke smoothly, flipping his fringe from his sparkling eyes and grinning at her awestruck face. He knew why she would be shocked, he knew he looked good, and he was eager to see her response. And she didn't disappoint. Harry's confident smile only widened when she hurried over to him.

Hayley could barely contain herself; it was quite simply, incredible. Being away from him the past three days, she had been nervous he might have relapsed since he couldn't take the medication she slipped him in their sessions. But no, he was practically human again – Doctor Scott would be fuming when he found out!

Shamelessly, Hayley scuttled to his bedside, dragging her chair closer so that she could get a better look, "Harry, how? You look… I can't believe it! May I?"

Gesturing to his face, Hayley waited for the man before her to sit up, and then, with trembling hands, reached for his cheeks to examine him. She couldn't quite allow herself to do it; would she be crossing a line if she touched him? They had had contact before, normally initiated by Harry, except for when she had examined his mysterious injuries. This time, Hayley wanted to touch him, to feel him, because she was mesmerized with the sudden change in him. But the therapist inside her was screaming that it was inappropriate; she hesitated.

"Don't test my patience," Harry purred, taking her tentative hands and guiding them to press against his face, "Your _hesitation_ is killing me." He sighed as Hayley's tiny hands began, finally, to explore his smooth and now youthful face. Harry was astounded at how tender she was - he'd _never_ felt such warmth from a woman. Closing his desire filled eyes, Harry chuckled lightly when the nurse began to play with his fringe, trying to brush it from his face.

"It really needs a trim," she whispered. Then, Hayley felt her hands being taken by his, down along his jaw and over his neck. It was then that she felt something strange, "Harry, your neck!" A large beastly lesion disrupted the flesh leading to his right shoulder. He hissed, removing her hands and pulling up the collar of his clothes to conceal it. "You really need to get that seen too. Tomorrow, Doctor Scott has informed me that you will be going down to the Medical Examination room for a physical and some tests. So, we'll make sure to dress that wound."

He nodded in approval as Hayley wordlessly passed him three pills and a cup of water. Once he had swallowed them, Haley sat back in her seat to begin their first topic of conversation.

"I wondered if today we could talk more about your illness, about the Osborn curse?"

"Ugh, if we must!" Harry rolled his eyes in disgust "That is the most pointless topic you could of chosen Hayley." He had never said her real name before and it made her chest glow with heat rash – Harry's lips curled in a smug smile at enticing such a reaction from her.

"Why is it pointless? I think something as pivotal as inheriting your father's disease, which led to your transformation, is an important aspect of your life that we need to discuss." Hayley had her shrink cap on today because progress in their sessions had to be made. Plus, she was curious to understand Harry's illness further, otherwise how could they possible hope to comprehend his Goblin metamorphosis.

Harry brushed at his fringe uncomfortably "What's to know? It killed my father and was going to kill me."

"Do you think you're no longer at risk of death?"

"Possibly. Who knows really? The venom I injected myself with was, supposed, to, WORK!"

Hayley watched her patient angrily hit the wall beside him, "Why did you think it would work Harry?"

"Because it worked, for, HIM! The venom was a success for P…"

"Who? Who did it work for Harry?" When he made a 'my lips are sealed' motion, Hayley continued a bit more forcefully "But, obviously it didn't work for you; it only accelerated your condition, right? In the security footage taken from OsCorp, I saw your change; you looked like you were dying. And then you put on some suit… why?"

"The OsCorp Exo-Suit. It has a healing protocol… but, if you use those pretty little eyes of yours Hayley, you'll see that I am _not _cured."

"But it healed you?"

"Perhaps. The word is stabilized. Aren't you supposed to be the _Doctor_ here Hayley?"

"I am a _nurse_, Harry. And I was just curious of your own assessment."

Harry sneered slightly unkindly, "Keeping you out of the loop are they _Ginge_? Is Doctor Scott not, uh, taking your role in my treatment seriously?" The young nurse fixed him with an equally nasty look, trying to pretend that his jab at her abilities didn't affect her.

"Have you heard of a man called Doctor Connors?"

"Should I?" said Harry sounding bored of the conversation, though slightly annoyed that she hadn't taken the bait of him questioning her abilities as a medical professional.

"He was a biologist studying cross-species genetics – he worked for your father. Connors injected himself with a serum, like yours, or, maybe it was the same one. Anyway, he changed into a giant green mutated lizard." Hayley paused and watched realization dawn on Harry's face, but as soon as she saw it, it was gone.

"Your point?" Harry fixed her with a cold uninterested stare.

"Oh, no reason. Just something for you to think about."

"Be _honest_ with me Hayley!"

"Excuse me?"

"I said be HONEST, DAMMIT!"

Getting swiftly to his feet like a shot, Harry stood threateningly over a still seated Hayley; putting his hands over her head, he placed them on the back of her chair, effectively making her trapped. He stared deeply into her startled eyes searching for a reaction to his question. Hayley sat stock still, trying hard not to touch him because she didn't trust herself when she did.

Breathing heavily from his sudden outburst, Harry licked his lips, flicked away his fallen fringe, and tried a more gentle approach. "I wish you could just be honest here Hayley. Why even mention Connors?"

"H…Harry, I, I don't think this is appropriate, appropriate behavior for a patient and th…therapist…" she stammered, suddenly feeling terrified.

Harry's piercing eyes narrowed darkly and a charming grin graced his face. Slowly, he learned further forward invading Hayley's personal space, causing her to lean back flush against the chair. With her where he wanted, Harry grabbed Hayley's auburn ponytail, tugging it sharply to grab her attention. He kept hold of it, controlling her movements so she would not shy away when he moved even closer. Their faces were practically touching now.

"Inappropriate?" he breathed "Oh, we are past inappropriate, don't you think?" Harry proceeded to make the nurse nod in response with a flick of his wrist, "Earlier, when you touched my face, was that not _inappropriate_ Hayley? Or what about in our last session huh? You wanted me to kiss you, I know you did."

Another marionette nod.

"Oh, well, if you insist," smirked Harry, before closing the very short distance between the pair and capturing Hayley's shocked mouth in a kiss. He murmured in pleasure at seeing her eyes fly closed and feeling her soft lips tremble in response. Spurred on by her lack of rejection, Harry pulled her hair harder and bit her plump bottom lip, making her squeak. She opened her eyes to see him looking at her with lust, which only made Hayley melt beneath his kiss.

One last soft peck, and Harry drew back slightly to appreciate his nurse's flushed cheeks, rouged chest and swollen lips, "How was _that_ for inappropriate hmmm?" He then removed his cuffed hands from her hair, brought them back over her head, and cupped her face like he had in their previous meeting. Hayley remained silent, still too shocked to even answer the grinning boy in front of her. She was too caught up in the moment, too overwhelmed at experiencing her first kiss that she could barely form words.

"I...I…H…Harry…Harry! What's wrong with your hands?" Hayley could feel her face trembling but not from her own body's movements, no. Snarling at himself, Harry quickly removed his hands, which were shaking uncontrollably. He kicked his bed furiously, the moment ruined, before jumping back onto his bed to sulk. Hayley gave him a quizzical look.

"Stupid Osborn curse," he muttered whilst clenching his hands in an effort to stop them twitching.

With his mood now soured, Hayley knew she wouldn't get anything useful from him concerning Retroviral Hyperplasia. Taking her cue to leave, she unsteadily stood and walked back to the cell door.

"Remember, you, you have a physical…"

"Oh, I'll be here, waiting, for _you_."

"Behave yourself tomorrow… Please!" Hayley pleaded. They exchanged a look of understanding before she decided to leave Harry to his thoughts.

Once outside his closed door, Hayley breathed deeply, trying not make eye contact with Colin who suspiciously noticed her reddened features. Before the guard had time to say anything the nurse had hurried off down the corridor. Hayley tried to remain calm but could feel her heart pounding her chest. When certain she was alone the young therapist fell back against a cold stone wall. Sliding down, Hayley pressed her damaged fingers to her kissed lips for confirmation of what had just transpired.

"What have I done?"

* * *

**OMFG! I kind of lost it when I was writing the last scene between Hayley and Harry! AHHHHHHH Finally!**

**Did everyone like my little science lesson? Haha sorry about how in depth I went with Harry's disease, I wanted to find some truth behind it even though it is a fantasy condition. I hope that answers one of my Guest reviewer's questions – I'm not too sure if Harry is still dying yet, more on that in the next chappy, but hopefully what I've written gives some insight. **

**And Peter came back yay XD I made it an especially long section for my girl XLil MEkoX!**

**Hoping to make the next chapter extra long because some shit is going down! **

**Much love to all my readers, reviewers, followers, favourite button pressers, you are all making my fanfiction experience a very happy and exciting one – you all inspire me to write more! As always, reviews and criticism is always welcome xxx LOVE!**


	11. Chapter 11

**I do not own Marvel, Spider-Man or any of the characters associated with the franchise - just my ideas and Hayley my OC.**

* * *

It was nine in the morning, bright and early, and Harry could hear a lot of commotion outside his cell. He supposed it was to do with the medical exam he had scheduled today. Usually when he knew the guards were about to enter, Harry would be up, ready and waiting, to avoid any mistreatment. The guards, especially Colin, always liked to give him a good kick or whack where they knew Hayley wouldn't notice. Somehow, those types of men always chose the places that hurt the most but would bruise the least. If their rage wasn't directed at him then Harry could appreciate the guards' precision and commitment to their position. He scratched his ankle where a scab had formed from their most recent assault – military boots were lethal. He whistled the Jeopardy theme, announcing how bored he was of waiting. The metal door swung open forcefully and caused him to flinch slightly; clearly Colin was on a power trip today, Harry thought.

It was then that Hayley entered. She looked like she hadn't slept a wink the previous night, confirmed by the huge bags under those dim watery green eyes. Harry was momentarily shocked at how rough his nurse now appeared; her beautiful hair laid limp down and around her face, no longer in its usual sophisticated style. Her clothes were the same from the previous day but dishevelled, and there was a slight hunch to her back. Harry wasn't stupid; anyone with two brain cells could tell she was in trouble. He wondered why she had turned up for work at all – had the other staff not noticed her fragile state? A part of him thought this might be a reaction to the kiss he'd forced upon her, but that conclusion quickly vanished when Hayley flashed him a warm and kind smile. So brave was his nurse that she even tried to stand a little straighter to hide her obvious pain, just for him. At this, Harry stood and walked towards her, lifting his hands to stroke the loose hair around her face.

"H…Harry, behave, _please,_" she whispered, voice cracking slightly like it distressed her even to talk.

"Be honest with…"

"Not now, Harry, _please_," Hayley pleaded again jerking her hair out of his grasp "We have a session later. _Please_, just wait until then."

A loud persistent knock from outside caused her to turn, jumping from the sudden noise. She quickly turned to face Harry again.

"This will be a full physical medical examination and they will probably prod and poke you, a lot. There will be many doctors and guards, and they will probably irritate you, antagonise you, and try to abuse their power because they _can_!" she warned in a hurried hushed voice. "I will be with you as much as I can. _Please,_ do, not, kill, anyone."

Harry reached for her again, this time to collect a single tear that had rolled down her pale cheek during her little speech. He brought up the finger that held the droplet, scrutinized it with his penetrating eyes, and then tapped Hayley on the nose. The sudden playful action brought her out of the comatose sadness that plagued her. She seemed to wake up briefly, cocking an eyebrow at him and rolling her eyes, though with none of her usual spark.

The cell door opened abruptly with an impatient cough from Colin to notify Hayley of the imminent departure. She smiled at Harry again though it didn't quite reach her eyes. The pair silently walked over to the exit and out into the brightly lit corridor.

Immediately, Colin and another guard grabbed Harry's cuffed arms, standing on either side of him to minimise an escape attempt. There were an additional two armoured guards behind him with guns poised, and another pair flagging Hayley in front of him; she appeared even more fragile now. Wordlessly, the troupe advanced down the passage towards an unknown destination. Harry could feel Colin's grip on his arm starting to bruise. What prevented him from ripping the piercings from the mans face, was Hayley acting like a nervous wreck.

As they walked past Room 125, Harry noticed a bald man with tattoos on his face glaring out the cell door window. The two exchanged eye contact. He made a mental note of the cell number before focusing back to Hayley who was talking. Another man, this time with a crooked nose and yellow teeth, was conversing with the nurse through the bars of his door. The Ravencroft institute was situated at an old prison but had had to extend its architecture to accommodate the vast quantity of inmates and medical practises it offered. This meant some cells had bar doors from the old building, whereas Harry's room was high security from the new expansion.

"… disappointed, very disappointed with the verdict MJ!"

"We've been making good progress Kinsey…" Hayley said.

"Progress? Progress! Then why am I still in here, hmmm? Why am I not out in New York fucking some pretty little redhead…"

"Oi! Shut it freak!" threatened the prison guard on Hayley's left, whacking his baton against the bars. "Come on lads, we're late!"

He fully expected the strange inmate to eyeball him like many of the others had, especially since Harry was a relatively new prisoner in comparison to the lifers. However, his blood started to boil when he noticed that Kinsey was too preoccupied staring at someone else. The eyes of that slime ball were raking up and down Hayley's slight figure; the man seemed beside himself, breathing heavily, obsessively biting his nails like he was trying to restrain himself. Harry could recognise the look of lust when he saw it. And it made him angry. He could feel the Goblin inside wanting to emerge and creating chaos.

As they continued on, drawing closer to the North wing, Hayley turned to see how her patient was coping. Harry's jaw was rigid, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration and he was walking like a man ready to strike. It scared her to death to see him so close to breaking. She didn't want the Goblin to come out, not today of all days! Today was too important to her and to him for it to turn sour. Hayley subtly coughed to catch his attention. Immediately his head snapped up to focus on her, causing Hayley to smile faintly at the intense look in his eyes. Behind her back Hayley made a 'v' sign with her good hand. He snorted at her swearing, recognising it as a childish yet funny attempt to prevent a sudden psychosis episode with her ridiculousness.

Unfortunately Harry's reaction only caused the guards on his arms to tighten their grip. He gritted his teeth trying hard not to hiss at the pain – he knew guards got off on crap like that.

The heavily armed group came to a halt outside a mechanised glass door marked 'North wing'. One of the guards walked forward and punched in a numerical code on the security panel at a furious speed. Hayley was dreading going inside. The North wing was the most sophisticated area in Ravencroft, housing all the gadgets and technology that the late Doctor Kafka enjoyed torturing his patients with. This included the medical labs, an intensive treatment centre, interrogation rooms, and the voltage cells that once held Electro. All the highest standing doctors at the institute had their offices situated in the North wing. Hayley didn't know how they could stand to work in a wing where screaming could be heard every hour like clockwork.

Once inside the dreaded North wing, a tall man with black hair, glasses, and horrendous acne bounded forward holding a clipboard. Harry snorted again and flipped his fringe elegantly upon seeing how this new man was, like many others, ogling at Hayley like he'd never seen a girl in his life. He didn't feel threatened by this guy, unlike Kinsey. There was no way geek boy here would ever have a chance with _his_ Hayley, Harry thought. It was almost sad seeing the lad trying to impress her.

"Doctor Hayley I presume?"

"Er, no, I'm only a therapist, I mean nurse," Hayley said irritated – she may have her doctorate in psychology but there was no way Doctor Scott would employ her as anything more than a nurse. Regardless of the fact that she was a practising therapist for twenty of Ravencroft's inmates. "You can call me Hayley or Miss Carmichael if you prefer."

"Hayley it is. I'm assistant doctor Ross Cooper," Ross spoke happily, extending his sweaty palm towards Hayley for an official handshake. It made Harry want to kill him for even touching her. "Well, I'll show you to the treatment room we've prepared for Mr Osborn's visit."

And with a dramatic swish of his lab coat, Ross led the group away from the entrance and into the bowels of the North wing. As if on cue, a patient's scream could be heard echoing in one of the surrounding rooms. Ross didn't seem to mind as he started to chat away animatedly to Hayley as if the guards and Harry didn't even exist.

"So, Hayley. _That_ is the Goblin? Doesn't seem very impressive now does he," Ross said confidently, "Looks like every other rich kid I've seen! Bet he has a daddy complex too…"

"If you would, Mr Cooper, I'd try not to antagonise my patient," she snapped, "We wouldn't want you getting hurt." Hayley then flashed Harry a cheeky smile when he let out a cackling laugh.

"Er, right, yeah." Ross looked nervously at the cuffed man behind him then back to the ginger girl, "So you're his therapist yeah?"

"That's correct, Einstein, _Ginge_ is _my_ therapist. Why, have _you_ got daddy issues?" Harry interrupted smugly – he really did not like this guy.

When Colin made a move to hit him for speaking, Hayley quickly intervened, "Do not attack my patient Colin! It is a vital part of his therapy that he be allowed to speak his mind in any situation, regardless of what he says being positive or negative!"

Harry let out another series of laughs, realising that his nurse was talking a load of bull. Even though she appeared fragile and Harry knew she wasn't feeling good, he had to admire her inner strength in these situations.

Trying to advance on his question, Ross spoke again, "Do you treat Schultz? Or Kasady?"

"I treat a number of inmates at Ravencroft, Mr Cooper, and, as a therapist, I never discuss my patients," Hayley said sharply, wanting to end the conversation.

Fortunately for Hayley, they had finally reached their destination of treatment room 9. There were a number of people waiting for the group when they entered, but only four that Hayley recognised; the old West wing guards Bill and Ernie, the highly renowned Doctor Poland, and, unfortunately, Doctor Scott. There were also three other men, whom Hayley could see were assistant nurses and doctors like Ross. The room was feeling rather cramped, and the two guards who had accompanied Hayley's side on their journey, as well as the gun wielding ones behind Harry, turned to leave, their mission accomplished.

With the treatment room door now closed, Hayley suddenly realised that she was the only female in the room.

"Ah, Mr Osborn. You're looking extremely well," Doctor Poland stated, observing the obvious changes in Harry's appearance since the last time they met – Poland had been present when the Goblin had first been brought to Ravencroft. He scribbled down a few notes on his clipboard before turning to Ross, "Cooper, please take Mr Osborn to the adjoining room so he can change into a gown."

Ross nodded a little too enthusiastically before leading Harry and two guards towards the changing room. Hayley made a move to follow.

"Not you Miss Carmichael. I think Mr Osborn would prefer some privacy hmmm? Hence the all male medical staff," Doctor Poland smiled.

"I think Harry would prefer me to be present."

"Oh, _would_ he?" said Doctor Scott, his voice laced with insinuation.

Realising what she had just inferred, Hayley blushed furiously at her mistake, "Er, um, what I mean is, as his therapist, I need to be present throughout this physical to ensure no harm comes to my patient and the progress we've been making." When Doctor Scott began to protest, she continued, "We wouldn't want Mr Osborn to experience a psychotic episode and I not be nearby, _would we_?"

"Very well Miss Carmichael," responded Doctor Poland anxious to begin, "but I think Mr Osborn does not need you to help him undress. So you will stay here in the examination room."

"Of course, Doctor Poland," relented Hayley who was still bright red. She watched Harry leave the room; he gave her a wink, his smirk full of playful charm.

Hayley prayed that he wouldn't kill anyone in the fifteen minutes they were apart.

* * *

The doctors were silent whilst they waited for Harry to return, and truthfully, it put Hayley on edge. Instead of prepping his assistants, Doctor Poland was simply staring at the door. It was starting to unnerve her how calm and collected they all were, like they had a plan of action that she wasn't in on. But then, when was she ever kept in the know when it came to Harry.

It was surprising to see him without his jumpsuit and hand and feet cuffs; Harry seemed to glide back into the room as if he owned the place, his rich boy persona in full swing, rubbing his wrists and cracking his knuckles. He captivated Hayley. Even in a medical gown Harry oozed sophistication. When he saw the auburn girl gazing at him, her gave her another mischievous wink and one of his dazzling smiles. She wouldn't have minded so much if the whole room of doctors hadn't noticed too. Doctor Scott gave her a rather disgusted look.

"If you please, Mr Osborn, would you take a seat on the medical bed," instructed Doctor Poland, snapping on a pair of disposable surgical gloves and adjusting the stethoscope around his neck. Once Harry had complied, swinging his legs in a bored manner, the doctor approached, placing the stethoscope bell on his gown-covered chest. "Breathe in and out, nice and deep, perfect."

The doctor continued the physical by inspecting Harry's eyes, ears, nose and mouth, whilst barking his findings to Ross and the others who were keenly noting it all down on their clipboards. Colin, Ernie and Bill were situated behind the medical bed, not too close but not too far in case Harry tried to refuse or attack anyone. This meant that Hayley had somehow ended up standing next to Doctor Scott, who kept glaring down at her. She tried to ignore him by keeping focused on Harry. Hayley felt like there wasn't enough air in the room; knowing that he didn't particularly like to be touched made her hold her breath every time Doctor Poland inspected a new body part. She had to admit that Harry was doing extremely well and she thought he would have refused by now. What seemed to be keeping him calm was how his eyes never drifted from Hayley.

"Teeth seem slightly discoloured, lips are dry, hair in good condition…"

"Could do with a trim though, right Doc?" Harry smirked doing his usual fringe flip, "Though, I'd prefer a real hairdresser and not some Sweeny Todd doctor."

Hayley tried to conceal a laugh by having a very unattractive coughing fit, which only made Harry's smirk widen. Looking between the two, Doctor Scott narrowed his eyes, growing exceedingly suspicious at their behaviour. Doctor Poland seemed a bit ruffled by Harry's sudden desire to talk but continued.

Grabbing his hand, Doctor Poland inspected Harry's nails, "Patient's nails appear yellowed, longer than usual, extremely hard, almost talon like… in need of a good manicure, hmmm." The doctor guffawed at his on joke, with his assistance joining him, and Ross adding an occasional snort. Harry looked less than impressed and ripped his hand out of the doctor's grasp.

"Toenails appear the same way," piped up Ross kneeling down by Harry's feet, "has lacerations on his ankles, probably caused by continual use of restraining cuffs. Bruising and scabbing can also be seen on the right ankle."

Another assistant chimed in, "Cuffs have also cut significantly into Mr Osborn's wrists."

"Yes, yes, make a note of your observations and mark them down on the diagram," ordered Doctor Poland who had begun taking Harry's blood pressure. "Now, Mr Osborn, if you could untie the back of your gown so we can evaluate your chest and back."

Giving the doctor a look that could kill, Harry huffily reached behind his neck, undid the tie, and allowed the gown the drop around his waist. Hayley gasped at finally seeing the full extent of the green sores on his body. It was horrific that he had been suffering for so long; similar to the one on his neck, Harry had three large wounds that appeared angry and irritated, weeping with blood and goodness knows what. And Hayley hadn't seen his back yet! Regardless of the lesions, his body was smooth, well toned and with a hint of muscle. Hayley couldn't stop her eyes from wandering.

Motioning to Ross, Doctor Poland continued, "Cooper, if you could inspect the wounds on Mr Osborn's body…"

"Touch me and you're dead," Harry hissed at the young assistant.

"Am I hearing you correct, Mr Osborn," jumped in Doctor Scott, walking forwards, "are you refusing to be examined?"

Before Harry could growl 'yes', Hayley rushed towards the doctors, "No. No, Mr Osborn is not refusing at _all! _I think, doctor, that what my patient means, is that he would prefer for Mr Cooper not to examine him. Perhaps a doctor of his choice or one he is more familiar with."

"And pray tell _where _would we find such a doctor?" snapped Doctor Scott, thoroughly irritated by this absolute farce happening in his institute.

"You don't have to look far, _doctor_," Harry retorted smoothly "I think Miss Carmichael is _fully_ qualified to dress and clean wounds, wouldn't you agree?" He was getting sick of everyone talking about him like he was invisible, making his choices for him. He was _the_ Harry Osborn dammit!

"Very well, very well, let's just get on with it!" Doctor Poland uttered impatiently, almost as annoyed as Doctor Scott. "Take the disinfectant and bandages from Cooper, if you please Miss Carmichael."

Hayley walked closer, a bit nervous with all male eyes now directed at her, and awkwardly took the First Aid box from Ross. She gently placed it on the bed beside Harry, fumbling slightly opening the rubbing alcohol. Bringing a soaked cotton ball to the lesion on his neck, Hayley carefully wiped around the area to sterilise the surrounding skin before placing it directly on the wound. Harry hissed and jerked away slightly, though did not voice his discomfort. Continuing methodically, Hayley cleaned and dressed the following three sores on his front, while the room looked on in silence. All Hayley could hear were Harry and hers breathing, keeping hers calm and steady so he could focus on her pattern and match it if the pain became too much. She almost completely forgot that there were seven other people in the room.

Having worked in Ravencroft for over a year Hayley had seen her fair share of naked bodies. There had once been an incident where there was a prisoner riot in the lunchroom and some of the more mentally disturbed had removed their clothes – she had seen it _all_ that day. Of course, Hayley had been in close contact with her patient before, but this was different. His skin was so smooth under her tiny hands; she felt electricity running through her fingers, sparking when they came in contact with his solid shoulders, toned chest and abdomen. She felt him shudder slightly, letting out a low breathy growl when she attended to the large sore near his hip. Unconsciously, one of Hayley's fingers on the hand she had pressed against his chest to steady herself, slowing caressed the skin under it. The movement was too minute for the doctors to see but Harry could feel it. He committed to memory the way her fingers felt against his bare skin and how her hair smelt like raspberries, so soft and silky when it tickled him on occasion. If there weren't three guards and an army of useless doctors in the room, Harry thought, I would continue what I started when we kissed.

Fortunately there were only a couple of small wounds on Harry's back, more the beginnings of serious lesions than fully formed ones like on his front. Hayley made her work quick and placed plasters on the cuts. Once done, she stood back for the other doctors to survey her medical efficiency. Harry sniggered at the judgemental physicians knowing they hated watching the young therapist be gentle when they would have been brash.

"Quite good Miss Carmichael, obviously you've been watching a lot of medical shows."

The assistants and Poland laughed at Doctor Scott's demeaning joke, whilst Harry scowled angrily at their obvious sexist prejudice. He could see Hayley forcing a small smile although her whole body looked physically dejected and saddened at her abilities being mocked. She moved away from Harry and the group of doctors, her purpose now complete. It made him livid to see Hayley subjected to such mistreatment by her peers. Harry could hear the Goblin shouting in his mind about killing everyone in the room. As much as that sounded like a perfect punishment, he had to keep control. Only Hayley seemed to spot how his fists clenched.

"We need to extract more blood from you Mr Osborn. I trust Miss Carmichael does not need to assist in this process?" Doctor Poland said sarcastically.

Harry's eyes narrowed at the doctor's request but held out his arm and submitted to their testing. Hayley could see that Harry wasn't happy, that he was desperately trying to conceal his frustration and control the Goblin from emerging. It made Hayley's heart soar to know that he was trying so hard. However she was afraid that the memory of the last time his blood was taken might resurface in his subconscious and cause a psychotic episode. Once the blood was taken and the needle removed, Harry shuddered and rubbed his arm. He was sick of being poked and prodded; he needed this to be over with. Now.

Retying the gown so that he was covered again, Harry jumped up from the bed, making everyone else in the room tense and take a step back. The three guards behind were ready to pounce but waited for him to make the first move.

"Are we done?" Harry yawned whilst inspecting his talon nails; fully acting like the stuck-up rich boy they all expected him to be.

"If you could step on the scales we'll record your weight and then your height Mr Osborn," instructed Doctor Poland walking Harry over to near the wall where the measurements were to be taken. He complied without fuss but continued to look thoroughly exasperated to still be in the treatment room for over an hour.

Whilst Harry's height was being taken, Hayley was stealing herself to discuss an important matter that had been bugging her for some time. Turning to Doctor Scott, she plucked up the courage to ask him an important question.

"Erm, Doctor Scott," Hayley stuttered nervously, "Would we be able to arrange a meeting this week? I have an important matter I'd like…"

"There are _certainly_ things we need to discuss Miss Carmichael," Doctor Scott said sharply, "Come to my office an hour after your session with Mr Osborn today."

"T…Today? Tomorrow would be fine also…"

Hayley and Doctor Scott were suddenly interrupted by a loud aggressive shout; Harry, breathing heavily, was backed against the wall yelling and snarling at the surrounding doctors. He was sweating, with the veins on his neck pulsing rapidly and a deathly green glow in his once sparkling blue eyes. The guards were on him in an instant, slamming his body to the ground whilst he fought, bit and scratched to get free. Hayley screamed in horror as Colin and the others started to strike any of Harry's exposed body parts with their fists and batons. Meanwhile, Doctor Poland and Ross were preparing a large syringe with sedative.

Racing towards the fight, Hayley started to shriek, "STOP! What are you doing?! He hasn't done anything! Why are you doing this? STOP! PLEASE!"

She had never seen such brutality up close and it terrified her. Seeing Colin raise his fist to bring down a devastating blow on Harry's head, Hayley made a split second decision. Pushing past the assistant doctors, she flung herself towards Harry, accepting Colin's punch instead. The strike had her reeling with its intensity and Hayley collapsed to the floor with tears streaming down her face.

Everyone stopped.

Hayley seized the moment of motionless silence, "Will _someone_ tell me, WHY, MY, PATIENT, IS BEING TREATED THIS WAY?" She winced at the pain in her jaw that talking had caused, touching her lip to feel it bleeding.

"Mr Osborn refused the genitalia and rectal examination part of his physical," Doctor Poland explained quietly, still clutching the sedative loaded syringe, "we also need to take some more samples for the lab."

"He has every right to refuse!" spat Hayley, glaring at the older doctor.

"That is where you are wrong Miss Carmichael," smiled Doctor Scott gleefully, "As a patient at Ravencroft, Mr Osborn has _no_ rights."

"This whole process has caused my patient_ significant _mental damage, and as his therapist…"

"Oh, but you are _not_ his therapist, not really." Doctor Scott bent over Hayley, who was still crumpled on the floor, using his position to intimidate her, "You are employed as nurse, and _only_ a nurse, Miss Carmichael. So you see, you really have no say in the matter." The doctor's manic smile only widened upon seeing fresh tears streaming down her saddened face, "Ernie, will you please escort Miss Carmichael back to the West wing – use as much force as you see fit."

"No! NO! You can't do this. STOP!" Hayley screamed at the top of her lungs and began to cry harder as she felt the guard grab her waist, practically carrying her towards the exit.

Watching his broken therapist fighting to keep him safe only fuelled Harry's anger. With a fresh burst of energy he roared at the remaining guards and began to struggle against their hold. He wanted to kill them, he wanted to tear them limb from limb. The Goblin was breaking through the cracks.

The last thing Hayley saw as Ernie lugged her out of the room, were the Goblin's eyes bearing into her own, while Doctor Poland stabbed the syringe into his shaking arm.

* * *

Ernie had locked her inside Room 136 because whenever he let her go, Hayley would just start running back to the North wing. Nothing the guard could say or do would calm her in that moment. A thousand things were racing through Hayley's mind, unsure of what Doctor Scott and Poland would do to Harry now that he was sedated and she no longer in the room. It terrified her imagining all the horrific tests they could be doing to him. Hayley knew that the doctors' were capable of indecent medical practise. Doctor Kafka was a power hungry evil man whom Hayley had never had the displeasure of meeting, but had heard the horrendous stories. Torture, under the guise of medical science, had been conducted on Max Dillon, which had resulted in Kafka's death. No doubt Doctor Scott was eager to take up his partner's mantle.

She sat alone, knees against her chest, hair curtaining her devastated face from the harrowing world beyond Harry's cell. Hayley had given up trying to escape from his room after fifteen minutes of continuous shouting for help and banging her fists on the metal door – if the incarcerated couldn't not escape Ravencroft's confines, then what hope did she have? The room was claustrophobic, cold and isolating, making Hayley feel small and useless. I'm just a girl, Hayley thought, what can I do, what could I even do? Time was lost to her, its concept removed with the lack of a watch or any way to tell of its progression. Hayley estimated that she'd been waiting for an hour but to her it felt like years. It made her reflect on her own years of solitude she had endured at the destructive burning hands of fire. Her world had been shattered that day. Her world had been removed, reshaped, and reformed with the rapid decline of her own self worth and place in the world. Hayley sighed, thinking that it was ironic that she'd even become a psychologist.

Having never spent time in a cell other than with her patients, Hayley was beginning to think that maybe those with serious psychosis should not be imprisoned in one. The isolation was getting to her and she dreaded to think how it affected prisoners on a daily basis. Especially Harry, who had experienced no love or stable relationships, loneliness for him was normal but not without harmful affects. Loosing his mother so young had exposed Harry to Norman Osborn's wrath; a vulnerable child with only a distant and abusive father to learn human emotion from. It had left him cold and hardened, driven by negative feelings due to not being exposed to love and kindness. His rage was nuclear but not without deeply rooted reason. These were the thoughts that plagued Hayley's mind whilst she waited for Harry to return.

She didn't have to wait much longer.

The screeching sound of the door being unlocked and opened roused Hayley with fresh fighting energy. She was about to make a break for freedom before Colin and Bill threw Harry inside the cell. Certain he was inside, Colin relocked the door not realising Hayley remained also.

"Harry? Harry are you ok?" whispered Hayley full of concern as she crawled over to where he lay on the ground. She then hesitantly brought a comforting hand to his back.

He jerked away from Hayley's kindness, rejecting the physical contact like she had caused him great pain. "Get off me! Why are you even still here?"

Harry moved from the floor to the sink to splash water on his bruised face. It hurt him considerably to pretend that his body did not ache; with such a show of weakness in the North wing, having to submit to those stupid doctors, Harry could not bare for his therapist to see him broken. She'd tried so hard to save him, displayed immense strength of character even though she, like him in that moment, was physically weak. Harry couldn't figure out why he hadn't been strong enough to fight those three guards. From his fight with Peter, he knew that the spider venom had given him superhuman strength. Maybe by repressing the Goblin, Harry was loosing some of the powers he had earned from his transformation. He'd have to ask Hayley about her crazy theories on id suppression when she wasn't so distressed.

She had yet to respond to his question, so, sitting lazily on his bed, Harry tried a different approach, "Why'd you stay with me?"

"I…I…I'm your therapist, your nurse, it was my duty to stay," Hayley replied from her seated position on the stone ground.

Shaking his head and giving her an angry glare, Harry retorted "No. No, do not give me the same bullshit you did the doctors! Honesty is the best policy with me Hayley, I do not like _secrets_!" Still getting no response he then shouted "BE HONEST WITH ME!"

"Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable - be honest and transparent," Hayley quoted under her breath.

"WHAT?"

Looking into his rage filled eyes, Hayley identified another emotion; it was small and distant yet distinct. She could see the vulnerable little boy who had grown up without a mother, who had asked how she died and been lied to, told it was his fault. Hayley saw a man before her who lived in a world of serpents and only knew tongues that lied. So she decided to be honest. She decided to be transparent for once.

"Harry, I stayed _because_ I wanted to, because I was _scared_ they would hurt you. And, I don't want you to get hurt anymore than you already have."

"Why?"

"Because, you _deserve_ better."

Harry looked a little perplexed by her sudden revelation but continued to stare at her nonetheless. "I want to see my lawyer," he said calmly, folding his arms. He then chuckled slightly at seeing her eyes widen at his strange request.

"Your, your lawyer? Why?" Hayley was thoroughly confused now. She had hoped that Harry might have responded more positively to her sentiment, but instead he'd closed himself up. It was sad to see considering the progress they had seemingly been making in their sessions. Maybe he didn't trust her enough yet? And if not, then he would never trust any positive emotion she showed him.

"I may have no rights here, but, if I am to be tried for my crimes, as I'm sure I will be, then I need to see my lawyer."

Hayley was at a loss for words. Sure he was right but Doctor Scott would never agree to it. Before she could fathom a response, the door swung open violently.

"Wha' ya doin' in 'ere Hayley?" Colin asked, surprised to learn from Ernie only a few moments ago that the young therapist was probably stuck in Harry's cell. "Didn't know yous were in 'ere! Shoulda said somethin'! Anyways, Doctor Scott wants to see ya, time for ya meetin' or somethin'."

Gulping hard, Hayley glanced nervously at Harry who was pretending to ignore Colin's interference. She really didn't want to leave him again; she was too frightened that something else might happen. However, Hayley reluctantly got to her feet and left the room, knowing that as much as she was scared of Doctor Scott, she really needed this meeting.

* * *

Standing outside Doctor Scott's office in the North wing, Hayley tried to straighten her rumpled clothes, licking her lips in case blood had dried on them from Colin's punch. Her face was still sore and she was beginning to feel sick with nerves. Knowing that the doctor was an impatient man, she quickly tapped on the door and entered upon hearing a very disgruntled voice bark, "ENTER!"

The doctor's office was clinical with an obsessive-compulsive order; it was devoid of colour and light, white walls covered in framed certificates of achievement and qualifications. Even the books shelved on a wooden cellaret were arranged in alphabetical order and looked as pristine as the day they were bought. Hayley could see suits and ties hanging in a thin ebony wardrobe, fabric poker straight and militant, the garments placed in a carefully considered manner. Even the doctor's umbrella and coat, which hung on metal coat rack, were arranged with precision. The bureau that Doctor Scott was seated behind was neat and tidy also. A row of expensive fountain pens lined the many vanilla folders stacked immaculately next to a pricey top of the range computer. Doctor Scott clearly was an anal-retentive man, and being inside his domain was intimidating.

Hayley took a seat in an antique yet sterile chair, wiping her sweaty palms uneasily on her baggy suit trousers. She waited hesitantly unsure whether to talk first. "Um, Doctor Scott? I…I wanted to ask you about my employment contract…" The doctor raised an eyebrow but made no move to speak, so Hayley continued, "I am aware that my job title is that of a nurse. However, since I act as therapist to many patients, and considering the work I have done with Mr Osborn, I think…I…I deserve a raise."

"_Excuse_ me?"

"Or a change of position to full time therapist…maybe?" Upon seeing the doctor's livid face, Hayley decided to keep talking to prevent him from interrupting and shouting at her. Stumbling over her words she said, "My work these past three months… ex…exceeds that of a nurse. I have a doctorate in psychology and I… I should be treated as such! Please, Doctor Scott, I really need the money, I'm struggling…"

"ENOUGH!" Doctor Scott slammed down his fist and rose superiorly from his chair, "You are a_ disgrace _to my institution! You are an _insignificant _little girl trying to play in the big leagues. How, dare, you walking around here as if you are superior, as if you possess the medical education to rival my own! The _only _reason you have not been fired yet is because you are useful in regards to controlling Mr Osborn!"

Hayley was sick and tired of being bullied, sick of getting nowhere in her life and being a doormat. "You cannot treat me like this! If you do not give me a raise, I will go public with the torture and treatment of the patient's that reside…"

"How _dare _you threaten me, girl! If you EVER go to a newspaper or the Daily Bugle, I, will, RUIN YOU!" shouted an enraged Doctor Scott. Sitting back down, the doctor picked up a pen and began pointing it at Hayley, "Think about all the people who know about your sordid relationship with Mr Osborn. Oh, yes, I know all about that. I have witnessed your outrageous behaviour and been told many things from the rest of my staff."

The sick feeling in her stomach only intensified and Hayley felt bile crawling up her throat at the doctor's words. What had people seen? What had they said to him? Apart from their private kiss, Hayley had never outwardly expressed any poor conduct towards Harry around others…had she? Her face blanched as the doctor continued his assault.

"Do you know what 'Erotic Transference' is Miss Carmichael?" Hayley nodded. "Please explain to me what it is so that I am clear _you_ understand the definition."

"Erotic transference is the, the process by which a patient subconsciously develops romantic feelings towards their th…therapist. It happens in a person with a history of rejection or misunderstanding…" Hayley spoke shakily, realising the doctor's implication.

"It's some psycho-mumbo jumbo, but it can also happen in reverse," Doctor Scott eyed the shocked girl triumphantly. "In a court of law, you would loose your medical license for crossing the boundaries of patient and therapist. There is a line that you _cannot_ cross under any circumstances! And you have been abusing your power as a psychologist, manipulating Mr Osborn for your own personal gain, haven't you?" He laughed at seeing Hayley's mouth open in shock. "Of course, that's what I would say_ if_ you EVER went public. Who would New York believe – an established doctor, or an orphan who can barely take care of herself? I. OWN. YOU!"

Hayley opened her mouth again to try and defend herself but no sound came out.

"You will continue your work with Mr Osborn and the other patients because I find it amusing to indulge you. You will not receive a promotion or pay rise as long as you work here and you will not leave Ravencroft otherwise I will destroy you." Picking up his phone to make a call, Doctor Scott waved his hand as a dismissal "Now leave. I'm sick of looking at you."

She could barely stand due to her knees shaking but Hayley slowly shuffled towards the exit. Her eyes were prickling with tears needing to spill, and yet she forced herself to say one last thing to the horrible doctor.

"Mr Osborn requested an audience with his lawyer in case he is to go to court in the near future," Hayley stated, hating that her voice cracked and broke with raw emotion needing to release.

"I will arrange it."

And with an answer received, Hayley rushed out of Doctor Scott's office and the North wing. She ran back to Harry's cell, the only place she felt safe in this hellhole.

* * *

**Sorry it's taken me longer to update than usual, I wanted this chapter to be perfect for you. I also had a bit of writer's block – I knew what I wanted to write but it just wouldn't come out of my mind ARGH!**

**Oh my god guys, WHY am I so mean to Hayley? It makes me soooo sad to write her in this state! She is a character who is a very extreme version of myself so sometimes writing her can be hard, but I think it makes her more credible and relatable if I put a bit of myself in her, don't you think? Hopefully no MarySue characteristics are showing - its my ultimate fear!**

**And…. We hit the 50 reviews AND 50 followers mark… AHHHHH! Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that would happen. You guys are so fantastic I wish I could hug you all! Love and thank you to all the new people who are reading my story and also to my faithful readers who have been with me from the beginning. **

**Also…. I have Dane as my mac desktop background, and I may have had a wonderful dream about him….. this story is taking over my life XD**

**Hope you enjoyed this longer chapter – more Harry and Hayley togetherness in the next update xxx MUCH LOVE!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I do not own Marvel, Spider-Man, or any other characters associated with the franchise – just Hayley my OC.**

* * *

Harry was exhausted. His body still ached and he had barely moved since Hayley's departure. Of course he was curious as to why she had a meeting with the evil doctor, but he was too knackered to truly care. He was still unsure of what exactly happened after he was sedated; being equally sore everywhere, Harry couldn't locate any part of his body that might have been further inspected after he blacked out. The only thing that had obviously changed was his nail length. No doubt the doctors had cut his finger and toenails to study in the laboratory. It wasn't quite the manicure Doctor Poland had promised but he now looked more civilised and less like a monster. When Harry scratched his head in thought his fingers discovered a small tuft of hair at the back that was shorter than the rest. He ran his thumb over the short bristles, growing irritated that another part of him was now under the assessment of some microscope. Along with the extra blood test, Harry was starting to wonder what kind of other tests Ravencroft were conducting. Sure they wanted to understand his transformation, as did he, however he was suspicious of their motives. To understand his goblin-like changes the doctors would have to comprehend his illness. Norman Osborn had spent his entire life trying to find a cure, paying the best and brightest, so what interest would an institution for the criminal insane have when they weren't being paid? Or maybe they were? Maybe there was an outside force, something bigger than Doctor Scott and Ravencroft, which wanted to discover the physical interactions the OsCorp spider venom caused. Harry thought back to a name Hayley had mentioned in one of their sessions; Doctor Curtis Connors. More knowledge on Connors would be useful since Hayley's tale of the doctor had sparked his interest.

When he heard the cell door opening slowly, Harry groaned, praying it wasn't the guards back for more. However, after the door closed quietly, a sniffing sound alerted him to a female visitor. Idly turning his head towards the intruder, his eyes fell on Hayley, visibly shaking, tears flowing down her distraught face.

"I…I… sniff, I didn't know where else t…to go…" Hayley hiccupped trying to construct a coherent sentence. She stood for just a moment holding on to the small shred of authority and dignity she still had, before the emotions became to strong. Glancing towards the ceiling in defeat, Hayley crumbled, dropping to the cold ground, giving into the intensity of her sadness. She wasn't a noisy crier, only verbalising small emotive squeaks and heavy breathing. Her world was falling apart.

Remaining rooted to his bed, Harry sat up, staring intently at the crying girl before him. He had no idea what to do. No one had ever cried in front of him before. Once, at a party, a drunken model started to weep because she was apparently in love with him – Harry quickly left before things became complicated. But that was different. Here Hayley was, broken and exposed, vulnerable, and she had come to him? It made him feel important, honoured even that she seemed to need him. As a boy, Harry had always cried alone after his father hurt him – never would he cry with an audience. His lips curled triumphantly, recognising a small victory; Hayley needed him, she craved him, she was _drawn_ to him.

Getting to his feet, Harry cautiously approached his therapist, still unsure how to provide her with comfort. He crouched down beside her and moved away her hands that covered her petite face. Harry then took her face in his own hands causing Hayley to unfurl from her heap on the floor. She straightened slightly in her kneeling position so that Harry could cradle her cheeks softly.

He skimmed her bruised and swollen jaw with his fingers, "I never did thank you for taking that punch for me," Harry purred. "It was foolish and stupid, you silly foolish girl," he chastised with a smirk before tapping her on the nose like he was telling her off. A small shy smile appeared momentarily on Hayley's face, and Harry was once again blown away by her inner strength. He then wiped away the tears from her face, though diamond droplets remained on her long eyelashes, "Tell me who did this to you."

Hayley was unsure; by revealing the incident with Doctor Scott, it could undermine the doctor's authority and cause Harry to be less cooperative in the future. However, she was pretty sure that he despised the doctor as much as she did, and Hayley really had no one else to confide in. She couldn't tell Peter because this was Ravencroft business and, as he worked freelance for the Daily Bugle, he might blab to the editor about the corrupt institute – Hayley couldn't take the risk. The only person in this whole world that would understand was Harry.

So she took a risk, "I…I…Doctor Scott, he…I…"

"Breathe, Hayley," whispered Harry, stroking the hair away from her face.

"You saw how they treated me," she sobbed, "they don't respect me, they don't value the work that I do. I…I have a degree in Psychology, Harry; we've been making good progress together. But Scott, he, he doesn't agree with the practise of psychology. He thinks its mumbo jumbo. He only lets me act as a therapist to patient's he can't control or who face court trials, because the law requires psychiatric evaluation." Hayley faltered to take in large breaths of air, "I'm employed as a nurse. I, I can't pay my rent, my bills, my medica… I asked for a raise, and, and he threatened me!"

Collapsing into fresh tears, Hayley reached for Harry, flinging her arms around his neck to cry into his shoulder. Harry fell back on his bum with the force of her hug, his back hitting the wall behind. She clung it him, and he could feel Hayley's fingers entwining subconsciously in his hair as she searched for stability and comfort. A grin that the Cheshire cat himself would be proud of spread across Harry's face. Inside, the Goblin was practically dancing, urging him to run his hands over Hayley's body.

"_She's ours now!" _sang the Goblin in Harry's mind. "_Look at her! It's almost pathetic. Though, she is beautiful in her weakness… now's your chance, make a move! Now!"_

Still crying on his shoulder, Hayley couldn't see how Harry's eyes flashed in anger at the Goblin's demands that were raging in his head. "Do you really have no tact at all?" Harry thought, "she's bearing her soul, and you want to fuck her? Seriously, do you think of nothing else?"

"_No. I will always want to fuck her."_

"True," smirked Harry in silent agreement with the Goblin. He then became aware that Hayley had stopped sobbing and was mumbling something against his shoulder.

She felt Harry pulling her gently away from his shoulder so that he could hear her words. Complying, Hayley continued, "He said he'd fire me! And then he implied that we… that I… If I told the world of his torturous ways, he would fire me and take me to court…I could loose my medical license!"

Now Harry was confused, "Why would you loose your license?" Gulping hard, Hayley shook her head, her doe eyes wide in fear of how he might respond. This made Harry sigh exasperatedly at her uneasiness and he gripped her chin harshly. "_Don't_ make me ask you again."

Unable to hang her head in shame, Hayley looked down at the floor instead, "They think that I'm in…in love with you. That I'm sl…sleeping with you to further my career…" She then peeked up through her lashes at him "I'm not though. Why would they think that? I know we kis… but I wouldn't, wouldn't take advantage… I wouldn't!"

Her blabbering was beginning to be annoying but he held her regardless, shushing her and placing her unkempt auburn locks behind her ear. "Shame," Harry whispered, hot breath caressing her earlobe, "I think I would quite like you to take advantage of me." Quickly, Harry dropped his arm around her waist, tightening it, effectively trapping her against his body. She squeaked at his sudden action and looked up to see him smirking. He then made a move to kiss her but Hayley jerked her face back, conscious of Doctor Scott's allegations.

Tutting at her hesitance, Harry used his grip on her chin to move her face closer, "Enjoyed yourself last time didn't you? I doubt one more kiss would jeopardise your career." His tongue darted out and licked Hayley's bottom lip making her moan, "Besides, I think I'm taking advantage of you." Laughing kindly at her innocence, Harry pressed his lips to hers, feeling a euphoric high at her softness. Noticing her still trying to pull away slightly, he moved his hand to the back of her head, entwining his fingers in her hair to prevent her hesitance. Briefly breaking the contact, Harry murmured, "I know you want this, Hayley, _give in_."

Hayley's heart was aflame with desire, with need; his kiss ensnared her, it made her feel alive for the first time. He was like a drug, the most potent drug she had ever taken, her loneliness and self doubt slowly easing with every caress of his wanting lips. The grip around her body constricted like he could barely believe she was real. Letting her lips part, Hayley felt a rumble of pleasure from his throat when he slipped his tongue over hers; it was the most desirable feeling in the world.

Their heavy breathing echoed in the room with occasional squeaks from Hayley when Harry decided to assert his dominance. Sharp nips on her bottom lip from his harsh teeth made Hayley's head roll back in ecstasy, making her moan his name breathily.

"Harry!"

He chuckled at how quickly she succumbed to his advances, running his free hand down her long neck towards her chest. With the sensation of her porcelain skin causing him to feel aroused, Harry began peppering her neck with soft kisses. It delighted him to hear her breathing stop momentarily in shock before going back to whimpering his name.

"Harry…Harry, we can't…oh, Harry!"

The Goblin was demanding for him to take her, here and now, but Harry had a game plan. Making Hayley go against her professional instincts, to fall for him, was a delicate situation and had to be handled with class. Running his tongue along her pointy collarbones, Harry marvelled at how tiny and fragile she was in his arms. "You, are so beautiful, Hayley," he purred against her skin. He smiled and gave her a playful bite when Hayley's hands gripped the front of his jumpsuit in yearning. "You want more don't you?"

"Y…yes."

Pulling away from her body, Harry gripped her chin again so he could look directly into her eyes, "How much more?" He wanted to hear her say it.

However, now that she wasn't being ravished, Hayley's conscience started to kick in. She had crossed a line. No matter how many years went by or if their situation changed, the doctor and patient relationship would always be there. "Harry, we can't! You're my patient, they'll fire me, I need my job, and I need money for…"

"I need you."

"You _need_ me?"

Harry gripped her face desperately in his hand; she couldn't reject him, not now. "I, _need, _you. I need you, Hayley." And to make sure she wouldn't rebuff him again, Harry forced her into another deep and long wondrous kiss. "You need me too, don't you Hayley?" he asked after a few lip crushing moments.

"Yes…"

"Yes, what?" he demanded.

"Yes Harry, I need you too."

That was all he needed to hear before descending to her shoulder again and overwhelming her senses with more delectable kisses. Hayley responded by rubbing her hands on the base of his neck and massaging her fingers through his floppy hair. The arousal hidden beneath his jumpsuit was starting to ache, spurring Harry's advances further. Moving her flowing hair over one shoulder and away from her neck, Harry began to lick and suck at the skin that was hidden beneath it.

However, something made him stop sharply. Hayley hadn't noticed, but now her hair was no longer on her neck, the scars and irritated broken skin that ran down her spine had now been revealed. It was a shock to see such horrible wounds on her snowy skin. Harry could see more clearly the scars on her shoulder blades and upper back that he had spotted when they first met. There was no doubt in his mind that the girl had been burnt. He didn't say anything but stored the information away for later. His attention was brought back to the woman who had now begun to timidly kiss his neck in return.

"Tell me, why do you need more money?" he mused, continuing to touch her shoulder in a soothing way.

Too ashamed to even look at him when she responded, Hayley just stared at the horrible orange jumpsuit that clothed him "I'm two months behind on my…my rent, and I could be evicted any day now. I don't get paid enough to cover it all…I thought if I got promoted…but he said I would never get a pay rise," she said, humiliated to admit her money issues to a billionaire. "And then my bills have gone up, and then there's food, and medica…and other things…"

"Other things?" Harry questioned, gripping her neck to bring her face to where he could see her. He had an idea of what 'other things' meant.

"Please, please don't ask me Harry," she stammered, "Not yet, please, I can't..."

The fear in her eyes stopped Harry from forcing the answer from her. A man of many secrets, he understood that some things were too painful to express, as he too, held onto untold experiences that Hayley would never know. In time she would tell him the whole story, in time, there would be nothing that would be hidden from him.

"Shh darling, don't worry your pretty little head."

"But he threatened me, he said he'd ruin me if I tried to leave…not that I would, I can't leave you here…he said he owned me!" Hayley wailed "I'm so scared Harry!"

"_I want to fucking kill him! He's dead, Harry, that doctor is fucking DEAD!"_ the Goblin screamed in Harry's head, "_No one owns this girl but US!"_

The soft pads of his thumbs gently removed the new tear droplets that had formed on Hayley's face. His anger was evident in the way his voice shook when he spoke, "Listen to me, if he hurts you, I, will, kill, him."

His exclamation stunned Hayley, reminding her that the green side of him was not completely locked away for good. "What? Harry you can't, that's, that's not you."

"_No, but I can!"_ the Goblin gleefully hummed to Harry.

Grinning in agreement, Harry ignored the girl's protest, bringing her head back to lie on his shoulder. He tenderly held Hayley close, running his free hand softly down her back. Harry then whistled the Jeopardy tune, his strange interpretation of a soothing lullaby.

* * *

The day had been long and draining. From being belittled and ripped apart by the male doctors, to trying to protect Harry, then having her career and life threatened by Doctor Scott. Not to mention confusing but amazing moments with Harry – the auburn nurse was shattered.

Returning to her apartment, Hayley managed to successfully dodge Mr Boothroyd, legging it up the stairs as soon as the handle of his door turned to open. Currently, she was preparing a Pot Noddle, boiling the kettle to soften the hard pasta. It was then that she noticed her second-hand telephone flashing at her; someone had left Hayley a message. Thinking it strange since no one really knew where she lived, Hayley curiously pressed the play button.

"Miss Carmichael, this is a remainder of your appointment with Doctor Jacobi in the burns unit at NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital at 10am," said the machine in a monotone voice that clearly belonged to a disgruntled secretary.

"Shit!" Hayley moaned whilst she poured the boiled water into her noodle pot. She had completely forgotten about going to the hospital the next day. At least she had already booked the time off work in advance, but with the drama at Ravencroft recently, her normal life was almost becoming obsolete.

Getting to the hospital meant a very early start and a stifling journey on the subway, which Hayley was not looking forward to at all! Plus, she really hated hospitals. She had done so ever since the accident. Also, Hayley didn't really trust doctors. As a member of the medical community, she knew that her view was a tad hypocritical, however, if Doctor Scott was anything to go by, then the majority of consultants were corrupt. Hayley just didn't agree with how cold some nurses and doctors could be to their patients.

Hayley took her food into the bathroom and reached for her stash of stolen medication. Placing the pills and warm noodle pot on the cabinet beside the sink, she reluctantly cast her eyes to her reflection in the mirror. Her appearance was worse than she had anticipated; bloodshot puffy eyes were obvious against her pale skin, her once glistening hair was tangled and dull, and the strands nearest her neck were caked in blood from the wounds underneath. When she removed her work shirt, Hayley gasped at a large purple bruise surrounded with little red grooves. She touched it carefully, smiling at the memory of Harry biting and licking her shoulder; he had left his mark but it had been worth it. Although Hayley was grinning like a love struck loon, her already raw eyes filled with tears once more.

Sick of constantly crying she rubbed at her sore eyes but still felt distressed at what was reflected in the mirror. More bones on her body had become prominent from her horrendous diet, making her skin appear paler from the lack of nutrients and iron. This sickly pallor caused her burns to seem darker, more red and painful. She was a damaged monster.

How could Harry call her beautiful? It was the one thing that Hayley could not comprehend. All his life, stunning models had surrounded Harry, and yet, he _needed_ her of all people. It truly dumbfounded her. Filling a glass of water from the tap, Hayley popped her sleeping pills into her mouth along with some extra strong painkillers. She then turned on the shower and removed the remainder of her clothes. Then she felt the drug induced buzz in her veins, a calming haze of nothingness filled her. Climbing into the shower, Hayley let the freezing water cascade over her body, wishing that the icy liquid could wash away her scars.

Then she could be beautiful.

* * *

The next day, Hayley managed to nab a seat on the over packed subway train during the morning work rush. Wearing an oversized baggy jumper was probably not the best of ideas since the heat was beginning to make her feel faint. However Hayley preferred to hide herself under loose-fitting clothes when she wasn't at work, because it meant that she could remain invisible to the New York general public. Although today, her desire to remain unseen did not go to plan.

A few stations away from her stop, she became aware of someone staring at her. The carriage was extremely crowded so Hayley could not be certain but she definitely felt the sensation of being watched. It was only when the train reached the next station and the majority of the people left that Hayley could identify the person.

Grinning from ear to ear, Peter Parker skated down the now clear carriage towards where Hayley sat relatively alone. Peter swerved on his board to miss the central metal poles, before stopping abruptly in front of Hayley, flicking his board with his Converse shoed foot so that it flew into the air. He caught it swiftly and plopped down into the vacant seat next to the petite redhead.

"We, er, really should stop bumping into each other, you know?" Peter spoke softly, trying not to disturb two sleeping commuters opposite them.

"I think you're stalking me Parker," Hayley whispered in jest.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and ran his hand through his messy hair. "Me? I'm going to work, to the Daily Bugle. You, however, are not going to Ravencroft, as, er, it's like in the opposite direction," he mumbled leaning forward, pretending to scrutinize Hayley, "You're the stalker here Carmichael!"

She rolled her eyes at the use of her surname, "Fine. I give up. I'm following obsessively," Hayley said sarcastically.

"Knew it!" chuckled Peter, "but, in all seriousness, where are you going?" When Hayley flashed him a 'non of your beeswax' look, he continued, "You look ill! Just a concerned, er, friend here. Have you been crying?"

Knowing that Peter probably wouldn't stop questioning her, she decided to throw him a small bone, "Just stressed with work is all. And I'm having problems paying my rent…I'm a few months behind."

"Really? That's not, you know, er, good. You could get a evicted right?"

"Mmm, yeah, probably," Hayley murmured, trying to down play the reality of her sticky situation.

An automated voice rang out in the carriage interrupting Peter, "Next stop NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital. Mind the doors on your departure."

Saved by the bell, Hayley scuttled away from Peter, as the train came to a sudden stop. She shouted a hasty goodbye as she exited the carriage, leaping onto the platform, and disappearing from sight into a sea of businessmen and women.

* * *

**WHAT did you think about that then my lovelies? I was mean by leaving the last chapter on a cliff-hanger, but I hope I made up for it with wonderful Harry and Hayley time hehe – is that consider a lemon?**

**Also, don't abuse drugs guys! And even if you have scars and imperfections, you are all beautiful – Harry thinks so too!**

**I apologise for the shortish chapter, I will make up for it in the next one – I had a busy week travelling to my graduation! Exciting I now have a degree AHHHH scary thing guys – my degree was in Fashion Design specialising in accessories, for those interested in knowing :D**

**Oh, and to my Guest reviewer who asked, my update frequency shouldn't be longer than two weeks. I plan to write a chapter a week or more if my creativity allows me. **

**Until next time xxx love and hugs**


	13. Chapter 13

**I do not own Marvel, Spider-Man, or any other characters associated with the franchise – just Hayley my OC.**

* * *

Locating the burns unit in NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital was easy. Even though the building was a labyrinth of sterile rooms and never ending corridors full of numerous staff and sick people, Hayley could find her way through it all in her sleep. Ever since the accident, she had been in and out of the unit multiple times a year for skin grafts and treatment. However, after five years of intensive therapies, her scars had plateaued, which meant hospital visits only occurred every six months. And even though Hayley knew the outlook for her back might never improve, she could not deny the happiness of spending less time in the unit. She loathed hospitals.

Her consultant, Doctor Jacobi, was already waiting in the reception area; he was a kind man and had been one of the first doctors assigned to her case all those years ago. Initially, he didn't seem to notice her, but a shy little wave from Hayley alerted Jacobi to his patient's arrival. He hid it well, but nonetheless, Hayley noticed the doctor physically recoil, sucking in his breath sharply. Had she changed that much in six months? The doctor probably didn't recognise her because her hair had grown and the dark circles under her eyes made Hayley look older.

Wordlessly, Jacobi turned, motioning for her to follow to his office. Once inside, he sat in his chair whilst Hayley took a seat opposite – they had been through this routine many times before it was like clockwork.

"So, Hayley, how have you been?"

"Not bad thank you," was her standard reply – she wasn't good, she wasn't bad… she was _really_ bad, not that she'd ever admit it to him.

If Jacobi noticed her anxiety, he never let on, "Lets move you to the medical bed and we'll have a look at your back."

Hayley moved reluctantly to the bed, sat down and pulled up the back of her top and jumper – Doctor Jacobi knew that his patient was extremely shy, so always respected her wishes to not remove her clothes during his inspections. Jacobi noted that the scar tissue hadn't changed much since their last meeting, though he was concerned how irritated the skin was around the spinal area. He identified small cuts and broken skin over each vertebral with the sores becoming more sore and severe nearer Hayley's neck. The scar tissue on her back was very thin due to the burn damage, however Jacobi knew that these sores would not occur if she were to gain a few more pounds.

"I'm going to prescribe a higher strength of the Sliver Sulfadiazine cream you are currently using, which will help with the new wounds and raw scar tissue. Your body must be growing immune to the lower dosage – you're still applying the cream twice a day?"

Hayley thought about the empty tub of cream that lived in the cupboard under her sink – she hadn't replenished it in over a year. "Yes, once morning and night," she lied, trying to give the consultant her best dazzling smile to ensure the deception wasn't obvious. She tried to channel Harry's air of confidence and unquestionable superiority by straightening her slumped back and forcing herself to make eye contact with Jacobi – no one ever questioned an Osborn on a power trip. Fortunately, Jacobi didn't question her further; he had known the girl since she was a child and had no reason to suspect her of lying.

"I think we should also start you on a course of Co-codamol to ease the physical pain of the new sores. Also, we'll keep you on the same dose of Amitriptyline…"

"Awesome. Thanks Doctor Jacobi…" Hayley jumped up from the medical bed as quickly as possible, eager to escape.

"One last thing Hayley," said Jacobi quickly, "I want to weigh you before you leave."

Thinking nothing of it, she shrugged, removed her shoes and stepped towards the scales.

"Just a minute Hayley, I need to call in a female nurse…" the kind doctor said, hurriedly exiting to find one. Hayley was slightly concerned but didn't have time to think on it since Jacobi returned shortly with a stern looking nurse. "If you could remove your jumper, top and trousers, then step on the scales backwards," he sighed reluctantly.

"What? Why?"

"Standard procedure nowadays," explained the new nurse bluntly.

Hayley didn't know what to do. Sure, she had pull up her top earlier so Jacobi could see the new wounds on her back, but this was different. She felt uncomfortable in her skin as it was and getting practically naked was a huge step. No one had seen her unclothed before! If Hayley could barely look at her body then why should anybody else? Besides, she had an uneasy feeling about the situation.

Sensing her reluctance, Jacobi tried to make it easier on his patient. "If you just remove your jumper that will be acceptable," he said rubbing his nose impatiently as the nurse sighed loudly to show her disapproval at his rule bending.

Feeling slightly better, Hayley removed the black baggy jumper, smiling slightly at the faded Metallica logo. The memories of her dragging Gwen to the concert still made her smile, especially as her blonde friend hated the band and dressed in her most preppy outfit to rebel that night. Needless to say, Gwen had stood out like a sore thumb.

"Stand backwards on the scale," reminded the nurse unkindly when Hayley walked onto the apparatus. "Look straight forward and do not look at the scale." Suspecting her patient's confusion, the nurse said with a stiff smile, "Standard procedure."

Jacobi saw the numbers flashing on the scale and shook his head sadly. He didn't like to see Hayley suffering and she had gone through enough in her life as it is. However, she was clearly still hanging on to some monsters. "That's everything," he said, "If you take these prescription slips down to Pharmacy you can collect your medication. I'll be sending you some letters about today's findings, and I guess we'll see you in another six months to recheck your back."

"Thanks Doctor Jacobi," Hayley said slipping on her shoes, grabbing her jumper and bag in one hand and taking the medication slips from Jacobi with the other. She darted out of the room, making her way to the ground floor, dreading arriving at the Pharmacy with every step she took.

* * *

"Declined."

"Oh really? Erm, maybe just try the cream and not the pills?" Hayley asked pathetically, already knowing what the outcome was going to be.

The pharmacist gave the ginger girl in front of her a withering look, before swiping Hayley's debit card through the cash register again. An angry beep echoed in the uncomfortable silence. "Really declined," smirked the pharmacist – she had no patience for those with money issues.

Hayley retrieved her card quickly, embarrassment flooding her pale face. "Sorry. My, er, my rent must of just come out, and work is always late on paying me," she lied swiftly.

"Right."

"I'll be back next week with the money."

"Sure you will."

Clearly the pharmacist did not believe her; never in her life had Hayley lied so much, well, except about her scars. She didn't like being untruthful but her life was just too difficult for her to handle at the moment. Something Harry kept saying flashed through her mind; "be honest with me". She wished she could be honest, she really did, but what good would it do when no one could help her.

Hayley left the Pharmacy empty handed, knowing that she wouldn't be back. She could steal the pills from Ravencroft - that would be easy. The cream however, was the medication she desperately needed and the one Hayley would never be able to steal.

Her shoulders sagged, and feeling deflated, made her way back to the Subway station to return to Ravencroft.

* * *

Harry had been with his lawyer for over an hour and was pleasantly surprised that the man was staying professional in such an unorthodox environment. During his wild party days, Harry's father had employed a personal lawyer to oversee all the legal requirements for his son's illegal misdemeanours. Over the years, Harry and Mr Dave Manners had formed a pretty close professional relationship – as long as Manners was paid, he would protect his client from the worst-case scenarios.

Manners was an Ivy League man who came from a family firm of successful lawyers; his father and three brothers were all established and recognised attorneys and his sister was a debutant – she even had a fling with Harry Osborn. The firm, Manners & Sons, specialised in protecting societies elite and wealthiest, the Osborn's being one of their highest profile clients. Like his brothers, Manners was very tall, six foot, with dark brown hair that he loved to style obsessively. He always wore a three-piece suit, ever the professional in every setting – he was a regular Mr Grey. The dedication that Manners threw into every one of his clients was admirable; he had even travelled to California, Brazil and Europe with Harry to ensure the young billionaire didn't sleep with too many trashy headline-grabbing models.

They had been discussing the legality behind his charges; one count of voluntary manslaughter, murder in the First-degree, and property negligence to the state of New York. After hearing Harry's side of Gwen Stacy's death, Manners was certain that the state judge would change the charges to involuntary manslaughter and Second-degree murder, due the girl's death being unplanned, unintentional, and not premeditated. Once the lesser charges were in place, Manners would claim that Harry Osborn was a victim of circumstance with mitigating circumstances that would lead into their plea of insanity.

The tale Manners would spin in Harry's defence was that the recent death of Mr Osborn had affected the balance of his client's mind. The depression and stress of becoming the CEO of New York's biggest financial empire had caused Harry to suffer a psychotic break. State law meant the murder charges would be dropped and changed to manslaughter on the basis of diminished responsibility due to Harry's mind-set. This personality change had led Mr Osborn to go to Menken for a cure in the form of the untested spider venom at OsCorp industries. When Menken had refused, Harry had drawn a gun in a fit of rage and desperation.

"I have already discussed the matter with Donald Menken, and we have bought his cooperation with defence trial," Manners informed the young billionaire prisoner. "He has agreed to say that Max Dillon, Electro, threatened himself and you in the offices of OsCorp tower for access to the electric grid. You then became distressed after Electro left and demanded access to the venom – you were watching your father's legacy fall apart."

"And what of my assistance in freeing Electro from Ravencroft?" Harry asked, though he wasn't too worried.

Smiling widely, Manners revealed the next part of his plan. "As you know, Electro killed all witnesses at Ravencroft when you broke him out, and Menken seized the security footage after he left you with the venom. OsCorp now has possession of the tapes, so you as an accomplice to freeing a known criminal will not come up in court."

"Excellent." Harry never doubted Manners abilities for a second – having his own personal lawyer was the one 'present' his father had actually done right. Besides, the man was the best, he thought of everything and anything. "Menken's monthly salary will be increased for his cooperation."

"It's been taken care off." Manners then continued to explain the rest of his plan.

Manners had spoken to many of OsCorp's staff during Harry's incarceration, as he wanted to determine how much they knew and whether or not they would be able to stand trial. Harry's personal assistant, Felicia, had seen him after his transformation, and it hadn't taken Manners much effort to convince her to comply with his story. Felicia obviously fancied his client and was eager to help get the charges dropped. On the stand she would say that after discovering Harry in his altered state, she had realised that his mind was unhinged and was scared for his safety. He had then told her that Electro was going to destroy OsCorp Power Plant and had to stop him – that would give Harry an alibi for his interaction with Spider-Man and Gwen Stacy.

With a concrete alibi, Manners would then explain how Harry was a victim of circumstance. Although he arrived too late to stop Electro, he discovered Gwen Stacy, an employee of his, and carried her on his glider to protect her from the damaged power plant. That was when Spider-Man began to chase him.

The people of New York praised the Spider-Man as a hero, but that had not always been the case. Gwen's own father, the late Police Commissioner, had initially been suspicious of the masked vigilante. And, hadn't Captain Stacy died in the spider's presence? Manners would use Spider-Man's anonymity against him; unable to stand trial and defend himself, the masked man could not dispute Harry's version of events. He would ruin Spider-Man; make him out as a fame hungry, glory-hogging pariah who only cared about the lime light of saving people and not their actual safety. The Spider-Man had chased and hounded Harry so that he would be the one to have saved Gwen from Electro.

"And how will you explain why I dropped her?"

"I have discovered that in the coroner's report, webbing was discovered on Miss Stacy's body, which would explain the whiplash she experienced, along with the head injury that killed her," Manners explained. "Spider-Man used his webbing to pull her body from you – his web was so fine that it wasn't caught on the surrounding news crew's cameras."

Harry smirked at Manners lies; the story they were spinning was almost as strong as a spider's web. Ironically.

"You then tried to help Miss Stacy and that was when the Spider-Man engaged you in a fight inside the clock tower and knocked you out. You _were_ unconscious before she died, correct?"

"Yes!" Harry said earnestly. Sure he may have contributed to Gwen's death, but he had not done the deed himself – he was innocent.

The last strand Manners would weave was the insanity plea. There was enough evidence pointing to his defendant's change in mental health, brought on by his father's death and accelerated by the spider venom. Harry had been unable to determine right from wrong, they would say, the venom destroying his sense of morality and ability to control his actions. He had made the best decisions he could under these exceptional circumstances. Manners had also, seen Hayley's medical reports on Harry, even the ones in her supposed locked computer files. Her evaluation of possible schizophrenia would play right into their hands, aiding his defence strategy.

"With the insanity plea, usually the defendant is referred to mandatory clinical treatment until they are certified safe to be released back into the community. Seeing as you have already been confined to Ravencroft, this will aid us in getting you released quickly and permanently," finished Manners, positively beaming with pride at his mastermind plan.

Harry was also smiling, extremely happy with his lawyer, "Very good Manners, very good. You will be rewarded greatly when I am released."

"Thank you Mr Osborn. Though, I must reinforce that by pleading insanity, you will have to undergo psychiatric evaluation. We have the one from Miss Carmichael, but I will need to bring in an additional three psychologists to do more reports."

"And what is wrong with Hayley's evaluation?" Harry sneered, his eyes darkening dangerously.

"Nothing at all sir," Manners said quickly, "Its just, can we trust her? She doesn't have the medical standing at Ravencroft to have carried out that report. The three I have found have already been paid, and are experts in their field, with the qualifications and their own practises to prove it." Still sensing his client's disdain, Manners continued, "Miss Carmichael may be an excellent therapist, as you have said, but her report and testimony will not hold up in court by itself."

"Fine," agreed Harry, seeing the lawyer's point. However, they weren't done talking about his therapist yet. "Although Hayley does _not_ need to bought off, I have another matter concerning finances I need you to take of for me."

"Of course Mr Osborn, is it to do with the girl…?"

Manners and Harry quickly stopped talking and turned to see the cell door opening. Both glared angrily at the unseen intruder before softening their gazes upon seeing a flash of copper hair swishing in the doorway.

"Oh! I…I'm so sorry…I didn't realise…" stuttered Hayley, cheeks glowing red at her intrusion.

Getting to his feet, Manners went to shake the girl's hand, "Pleasure to meet you Miss Carmichael. I am Dave Manners, Mr Osborn's lawyer."

"Oh right! Hello, nice to meet you," Hayley spoke, slightly surprised at Doctor Scott's efficiency at allowing Harry to see his lawyer. The pair shook hands, "You can call me Hayley."

"Hayley, be a doll and give use another fifteen minutes," drawled Harry, eyeing the girl strangely, "Besides, I don't think 'Metallica' is what nurses usually wear hmmm?" He chuckled as Hayley glanced down at her clothes in horror – clearly her mind was on other things. "Why don't you change into something a little more appropriate?"

Hayley nodded, slightly dumbfounded at being given a direct order by her patient. The two men watched her leave, stumbling over her feet as she closed the door and left them alone once more.

"Cute," said Manners, "I can see why you like her."

"Mm? Yes, well, she is rather remarkable…" Harry spoke like he was in a haze, still staring at the spot where she had been standing. "Now, back to those finances…"

* * *

Harry stayed in his seat as Manners swanned out of the cell, feeling slightly more at ease knowing that his trial was in good hands. His time with Manners had left him rather tired from all the legal talk, but he perked up when Hayley slipped in after the lawyer's departure. Now that she was no longer covered up in that ratty shapeless jumper, he could part take in one of his favourite past times – drinking in Hayley's dainty figure. He looked at her hungrily as she took up the seat opposite him; due to the familiarity between Manners and Harry, the chairs were closer to each other than usual. However Hayley made not move to change their close proximity, and Harry took it as a sign that she was growing more comfortable around him.

"So, where were you Metallica? In a mosh pit?"

"I think I preferred it when you called me Ginger,"

"_I'd_ rather call you by your name. It suits a beautiful woman like yourself…Hayley." Harry watched the girl flutter her eyelashes shyly and shift uncomfortably in her seat at the compliment, "As much fun as it was seeing Manners, I did wonder where you were. Missing our usual time, not like you at all."

"Sorry, I had a, er, appointment at the…the bank," Hayley lied, avoiding those narrowed suspicious blue eyes.

Harry crossed his arm over his chest and flipped the hair out of his eyes in a nonchalant manner, "Oh? Cheryl mentioned that you were at the hospital. I was _so _worried about you doll."

Caught in her lie, Hayley didn't know where to look; she may have just destroyed the little trust Harry did have in her. "Well, er, yes I _was_ at the hospital, but I went to the bank first," she said trying to salvage the situation.

He smirked at her pathetic lies. "Why _were_ you at the hospital?" - straight to the point as always.

"Standard check-up…for er, for women stuff!"

"Of course," his smile waning slightly in annoyance at her persistent lying, "I do worry about you, you know. Especially with Kinsey."

"Kinsey? My patient Kinsey? What about him?"

"I don't like how he looks at you."

"How he looks at me?" Hayley spluttered.

"_No_ man should look at a woman like _that_," Harry enforced sternly.

"What about the way you look at me?"

Leaning forward in his chair, Harry put a hand on her knee darkly, "Do you not like how _I_ look at you?"

"Sometimes." When the hand on her knee tightened, Hayley squeaked, "I mean, it's just, no one's looked at me like that before, like…"

"Like they want you?"

Hayley's eyes widened at the truth behind his bold words, which only made him smile further, running his hand slightly higher up her leg.

"Only_ I_ look at you like this, Hayley," Harry murmured, skimming his other hand up to her neck to cup her jaw, "Only I want you...I _need _you."

Staring into her eyes to make sure that she knew the difference between sincere want and murderous lust, Harry took her lips in a predatory kiss. They tasted like honey, sweet and erotic in their blatant hesitant innocence. The way she trembled beneath his lips was a euphoric feeling that could only be compared to the high he got from taking cocaine. Hayley was his substance, his poison, and his drug.

Their position was slightly awkward, both sitting opposite each other on chairs. He wanted her closer, wanted to feel her fragility in his arms. Wasting no time, Harry placed both hands behind her lower back, gripping her steadily, and pulled her towards him, hard. Her surprise at his dominance resulted in a high-pitched squeal that only made Harry smirk and chuckle at her virtue. With Hayley now on his lap and straddling his legs, Harry continued his assault on her kissable lips. He was certain that she could feel how hard he'd become beneath his clothes.

Hayley never knew how they got to these moments, only that she never wanted them to end. She adored how Harry would hold onto her hair as they kissed, wrapping his fingers in her auburn ponytail. It allowed him to guide the intensity of the kiss, something that inexperienced Hayley was grateful for because she had no idea where to place herself. When she followed suit and began to grip tufts of his floppy hair, Harry let out a guttural moan before tugging at Hayley's ponytail. She thought she'd done something wrong, but all Harry wanted was to slip his tongue into that pure mouth when she gasped at his dominance.

When their lips finally broke away from each other they were both breathing heavily. Harry leaned his head against her forehead and held her tightly so she couldn't leave him even if she wanted to. "You're light as a feather. If I wasn't holding you, you'd float away…" Harry whispered.

He waited for the girl to respond but when nothing other than her shallow breathing could be heard, something inside him switched. Yanking her ponytail with force, Harry ensnared her body closer to his, crushingly wrapping his arm further around her dainty waist.

"Ow! Harry you're hurting me…"

"You want to leave me don't you? I can see it your eyes, you'd rather float away than stay here with me!" Harry snarled, staring down darkly at her horrified expression as he continued to pull her head back at a painful angle. "Your going to leave me like everyone else! I saw how Kinsey looked at you…"

Seizing her chance, Hayley tried to take control of the situation, "How…how does Kinsey look at me? Harry, how does he look at me?"

"Like he wants to hurt you."

"But _you_ don't want to hurt me though Harry," Hayley said softly, her voice cracking slightly due to her fear. She removed her hands from their stiff grip on his shoulders and gently began to stroke his face, "I need you Harry, you, you understand me. You wouldn't hurt me, right Harry?"

Hayley felt the hold on her hair and waist slacken, and took the opportunity to slowly right her head to its natural and less painful position. Her fingers continued to caress his slightly rough face, hoping her touch would sooth him. Harry stilled and closed his eyes in bliss, though his brow furrowed, alerting Hayley to his indecisive mind.

"I won't ever leave you Harry. I won't hurt you, I promise," she said honestly, hoping to get through to him with her sincerity. Nothing. No response. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words.

Turning her soft caress into a firmer clasp, Hayley held Harry's face in her small hands. And when his eyes remained closed, she decided to do something that frightened her more than his anger. With all the courage she could muster, Hayley pressed her lips to his, initiating a kiss for the first time. She moved them delicately trying to coax a response from Harry. Hayley knew she'd have to be bolder so slowly dragged her tongue over the grooves in his bottom lip before softly nibbling the plump skin.

That ignited a spark deep inside Harry. He attacked her lips with renewed vigour, groaning deeply, clutching at the back of her neck to deepen the kiss.

An outside knock from Colin made the pair freeze, their session time together over.

"I will never leave you Harry," she said, untangling her body from his. She gave him a small shy peck before smoothing out the creases in her clothes and tidying her hair. When she reached the door, Hayley turned, "I will never truly leave you."

After the door closed and his therapist had left, Harry remained sitting in the chair, marvelling at what had just transpired. Sure, they hadn't talked about his 'feelings' in this session, but he much preferred their other activities. He smiled, a true childlike smile, barren of the Osborn superior persona; for the first time in his life Harry no longer felt alone.

* * *

Another long day full of mixed and strange emotions, Hayley was quickly realising that ever since she had met Harry Osborn, her life had changed. No more was she a wallflower, a shy hidden mouse, a blip on people's radars. She had become an important central part to somebody's life. Someone relied on her. It was an unusual feeling, one with weighted responsibility, but it some how made Hayley feel good. She now had a purpose.

Once again, Hayley dodged Mr Boothroyd, racing up five flights to escape her landlord's justified persistent demands for her overdue rent. After her card decline at the hospital, she was dead certain that her bank account did not have the necessary funds to pay the old man. It scared her, as Hayley knew that Mr Boothroyd had every right to call the authorities and evict her for evading payment for so long.

She shrugged of her Metallica jumper and threw it on the moth-eaten sofa along with her handbag. The bag rattled, a reminder of the stolen pills she had managed to snatch after meeting Harry's lawyer. Her crimes were always done with the best intentions but that didn't mean they were right.

A heavy knock rattled the door. If Mr Boothroyd had made the long climb up to her apartment then it must be serious. Shit, Hayley thought bitterly. Her deceptions couldn't last forever.

Slowly opening the door, Hayley plastered a false smile onto her face and began to plead with the old man, "I'm so, so, _so_ sorry Mr Boothroyd, I know I still haven't paid you…"

"Calm dear, calm down," the landlord said kindly, "Your rent has been take care of."

"What?!"

"A young man came to see me and provided me with a cheque for your outstanding rent."

"What? Who?" Hayley was freaking out – this was amazing, a dream come true, but everything comes with a price right? Nothing is free.

"The young man wished to remain anonymous, but he was tall with brown ruffled hair…he said he was a friend," Mr Boothroyd explained. He too was surprised at the generosity of the mysterious man, however he understood that his tenant was struggling and really didn't want to evict her. So, he had asked no questions and took the payment gratefully. "Well, now that that's been taken care of, I thought you should know that there have been some muggings this past week. Two of my tenants on the lower floors have had their apartments broken into. So be careful dear," the old man warned before leaving slowly down the stairs.

Hayley felt like she was going to faint, the landlord's cautionary tale falling on deaf ears. The shock of knowing that some wonderful person had paid her rent debts made her want to weep in happiness. Shutting the door and sliding to the floor in astonishment, Hayley could only think of one name, one person, one _friend_ who could possibly be the mystery benefactor;

Peter Parker.

* * *

**DUN DUN DUUUUNNNN!**

**I did a lot of research for the section with Harry's lawyer – the laws for murder are different in the UK, you're innocent until proven guilty unlike the US, so I made sure to get that part as accurate as I could. Hope you enjoyed it! We've got to get Harry out of Ravencroft!**

**Also, because I'm from the UK, I find it crazy that people have to pay for healthcare in the US and other countries! Like seriously it's terrible :( - in the UK, everything to an extent is free on the NHS! I have a medical condition and, if I had to pay for all my treatment and medication, it would be ridiculous! It makes me sad that some people cannot get the treatment they deserve like Hayley.**

**By the way, when I was writing the um yummy smut section, I listened to the song Gunshot by Lykke Li – really sets the scene even though it's short and sweet.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter my lovelies, all your reviews make me smile and I feel literally amazing when I read them so maybe…. more reviews? I love hearing your reactions and takes on what is happening or what might happen in the story – you all inspire me so much 3 XXX**


	14. Chapter 14

**I do not own Marvel, Spider-Man, or any other characters associated with the franchise – just my plot, other OC's, and my main girl Hayley.**

* * *

Harry was laid on his bed with an arm and a leg draped over the edge, relaxing expectantly in the few minutes before Hayley was due to arrive. He'd had a wonderful nights sleep, the best he'd had in ages, even with the aid of sleeping pills! Gone were the nightmares that usually plagued him. Not once had he dreamt of green flashes followed by excruciating pain, of metallic gears ticking and rotating with a piercing scream echoing through the haziness of sleep. Instead, the horrors were replaced with something far more desirable.

Hayley.

What attracted him the most to his little ginger doll was her innocence. Everything about her was purely angelic and unspoilt; her emerald doe eyes never failed to capture his attention, enticing the predator within. Her hair was another aspect that had him licking his lips in lust. Soft auburn gold strands that set his world alight. She held an authoritative internal fire when in therapist mode and it was something Harry liked to not only see, but to control. The passion in her conviction was highly attractive in a woman so meek – Harry wanted to grip that ponytail and tug at it as he took her.

His eyes rolled back, lids closing, as he stifled a wanting groan whilst running his hands through his floppy hair. The image of her slender porcelain body writhing under his was a dream that Harry never wanted to wake from. He let out a shaky breath feeling his body heat up and tingle just thinking about the little mewls and moans his dream girl had uttered into his ears. The fabric of his jumpsuit tightened precariously around his hips. If the young nurse weren't about to enter any minute now, then Harry would easily indulge himself, shamelessly giving over to the wondrous electricity that pulsed in his nether region.

It was going to be pretty obvious that he was aroused. Maybe he should sooth his needs? Harry lowered a hand, rubbing himself to try and bring momentary relief to the prominent ache. How he longed to have Hayley's delicate hands clasp his shaft, to have her be the only woman responsible for his sexual pleasure. And his need for her was only growing.

The room was becoming stifling with the tension from Harry's unreleased angst, and he was so focused on his dirty thoughts, that he nearly didn't hear the door opening. With lightening speed Harry sat up and crossed his legs to conceal his bugle, just as Hayley peaked her head into the room.

"Morning!" she chirped, an award winning smile radiating happiness on her bright face.

Harry noticed that the bags under her eyes had lessened – she also had a good night sleep it seemed. He followed her movements closely as Hayley pulled her chair towards his bed. The slight curve of her behind nearly made him sigh hotly out loud. Harry squirmed uneasily where he sat, having to fight the carnal response of his body at seeing Hayley in an uncharacteristic skirt. Normally she drowned her figure in those large suit trousers but today was an exception it seemed. Today she had made an effort. And Harry smirked, confident this change was interiorly his influence.

"You look chipper this morning," he observed behind desire-laden eyes, "to what do I owe the _pleasure _of seeing you brighten up my room like this?"

Sitting down, Hayley tucked a stray reddish wisp behind her ear, her hair in a polished ballerina bun instead of its usual up do. "Oh? I just realised that there are good people in this world after all…" she mused whimsically.

The smirk on Harry's face turned into a charming toothy grin, "Care to elaborate?" When Hayley shook her head, his smile wavered and the once longing filled eyes become narrowed and annoyed, "And _why_ not?"

"We only have thirty minutes in our session today. Manners demanded a last minute visit, so that is eating into my time with you," Hayley said flicking open her notebook, not noticing the sudden change in her patient's demeanour.

Harry folded his arms, somewhat irritated at Manners for taking precious time away from being with his only joy in this god-forsaken place. Though, he knew that if his lawyer was _that _eager to speak to him then it must be an emergency. It better be something good or Harry would be pissed.

"Manners has briefed me on some of the topics that might come up in court, so, I think we should address these during our session," Hayley explained. "Today I wanted to talk more about your past history with drug and alcohol abuse."

"Why?" Harry asked bluntly, lying back down on his bed now that his desire for her had vanished.

Hayley swallowed thickly as she recognised the signs of Harry shutting himself off from the current situation – questioning him would be like getting blood out of a stone. Impossible. "Manners…"

"MANNERS!" Harry shouted, jealousy rearing its ugly, "Is he all you have to talk about?" He stood quickly shaking with fresh anger, "I _thought _you were here for _me,_ NOT to talk about my lawyer! Is _that _why you're dressed like a common whore with your short skirt and hair in that stupid prissy bun? Trying to flirt with my lawyer aren't you? AREN'T YOU?"

"Harry will you please sit down," Hayley spoke quietly, trying to stay disconnected and control her emotional reactions to his unkind goading.

"WHY? Why, should,_ I, SIT DOWN, _when you are _clearly _not here for me?"

Taking two pill packets and a small plastic cup out of her lab coat, Hayley calmly presented the objects to Harry's agitated form, "Because it's time to take your medication Harry."

He grumbled at the provided evidence, that Hayley was indeed, here to treat him. Like a sulking child, Harry sat heavily back on his bed, looking anywhere but at her. It annoyed him how she was always right, that he had acted like a spoilt rich brat when she made him feel like so much more. Harry decided to blame his brash rudeness on the Goblin, who had been internally cursing Manners continuously throughout his little outburst. He only dared a glance at Hayley when she retreated to the sink to fill the plastic cup. He instantly began to regret his words when the girl tugged her skirt lower down her legs. If he was being completely honest with himself, Hayley looked the best he'd ever seen her; the skirt wasn't _that_ short, it fell around her knees, hugging her slender legs due to its body contouring design. It was a garment Harry never expected her to wear. He imagined once, that if she did possess a skirt, then it would be a baggy pinstripe suit skirt with a small slit up the bag. However, Harry much preferred this fashion choice to his own musings, even though she had now pulled the hem down to her calves.

Giving the cup and two tablets to her patient, Hayley tried to keep her voice light and her smile from cracking, "So, if you don't want to discuss _that_, what would you like to talk about?"

Eyeing her suspiciously, Harry gulped down the little pills, shoving the drained cup into her outstretched hand. He waited for her to take a seat before responding, "This medication you give me, why is it that only _you_ give them to me?"

"I'm sorry I don't follow you," Hayley said uneasily, shifting uncomfortably under his judgemental gaze. This was not a subject that she had ever hoped to discuss with Harry, knowing that giving him unauthorised medication on the sly was a criminal offence. She nervously rearranged the loose hair around her face.

Harry could tell he'd struck a nerve and uncovered something extremely interesting about his little therapist. What, he could not say, but he was determined to find out. "You were gone three days for that bastards retrial…"

"Kinsey?" Hayley interrupted.

Nodding in confirmation, Harry continued, "…and _no one_ gave me my daily medication, bar Peroxide in the evening." His eyes searched her face for any noticeable signs of falsehood – her jaw was set and her chest had traces of red blush.

"There, er, they must have forgot. Ravencroft was so chaotic that week with Kinsey and the courts, it must have slipped my cover's mind…" Hayley tried to lie smoothly.

"I guess it_ must _have," Harry said steadily, his suspicious observations causing him to barely blink. The small controlled sigh of relief that slowly left Hayley's pursed lips did not go unnoticed by Harry. "And may I ask what are these drugs that I, er, am being _forced_ to take?"

Knowing how he hated to be lied to and kept in the dark, Hayley decided it would do more good than harm to divulge him; "At night you take Amitriptyline, an antidepressant that also combats insomnia, to help you sleep. In our sessions I give you Co-codamol and Quetiapine. The former is an analgesic to provide you with bodily pain relief."

"And Quetiapine?"

Hayley tried to keep her face neutral and not display any trace of the lie she was about to tell. "It's a…a mood stabiliser," she said evenly. Strictly, there was some truth in her words, Quetiapine did ease and stabilise the symptoms of mood disorders with its prolonged-release chemical construction. She had just neglected to inform him that the drug was an anti-psychotic. And that he was taking it to supress the schizophrenic appearances of the Goblin. Hayley was certain that he would not be happy to learn about her diagnosis.

A light rapping on the door, different from Colin's usual fist banging, caused the pair to ignore their minor quarrel momentarily, turn to greet their new guest.

Dave Manners strolled inside wearing a dark grey suit, garnet tie and a crisp white shirt. He held a bulging manila folder stuffed with important legal documents and a monogramed black Mulberry briefcase in his other hand. With the toe of his over polished shoe, Manners kept the door open for Hayley to exit after pleasantries had been exchanged.

"Morning Mr Osborn, Miss Carmichael. You are looking very beautiful today Miss Carmichael, your hair is quite wonderful in that style" said Manners warmly, nodding to the both of them. He noticed Harry glaring at him intensely.

Trying to conceal a small smile at the compliment, conscious of Harry's raging jealousy a few moments ago, Hayley stood from her chair, "Thank you Mr Manners, you are too kind," she spoke softly, "I'll see you tomorrow normal time Harry."

Just as Hayley made a move towards the door, Harry shot out his hand, grabbing her wrist roughly. The sudden movement cause her to yelp but she held her ground and did not sway from where she stood.

Harry's grip tightened to make sure that his therapist was paying close attention, "_I_ like your hair in a ponytail." His voice was quiet so only she could hear, but it did not disguise his irritation at her change in style. "_Never, _wear it like this again," he warned darkly. A timid nod of the head told Harry that she had understood his request and he released her wrist, offering her a charming grin as a reward.

Manners gave Hayley a reassuring smile as she rushed out of the room, noting that her beautiful eyes seemed glassy with tears. Shutting the door behind her, the lawyer sighed and shook his head in disbelief at his client's behaviour. He walked over to Harry and leisurely rested on the chair that Hayley had previously occupied.

"This better be good Manners" Harry sneered hotly, "I thought you'd know better than to disturb my very _limited_ time with Hayley."

"This, with the girl, it needs to stop," Manners said sharply, not one to beat around the bush.

Harry leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees, green anger coursing threw his veins; "_Excuse me_?"

Feeling the air shift dangerously between them, Manners straightened in his seat, cutting a tall impressive figure compared to Harry. One thing that the Manners boys all had in common was their imposing height of six foot. His father stressed that presentation in a Law career was key and that his sons should use their god given height to intimidate witnesses during interrogation.

"I managed to put a tap Doctor Scott's phone," the lawyer spoke gravely, "One of prosecution to keep you in Ravencroft, and I have uncovered some alarming news that could sway the court _out _of our favour."

"And my relations with Hayley is involved in this how?"

"Erotic transference. It is a psychotherapy term for when a patient falls in love with their therapist or the other way round. Scott is convinced that Hayley is sleeping with you to further her medical career," Manners explained. He sat back in his chair, mirroring Harry's own relaxed pose now that he was listening to the lawyer intently. "The prosecution will use this claim as one of their main attacks against you. They will say that your rehabilitation is a farce and obsolete due to Hayley's medical negligence at engaging in a relationship with you. This could destroy all our plans! This thing with Hayley, it has to end now!"

"You can't tell me what to do! I, pay,_ you_! You are not my father," Harry shouted before jumping up to try and gain a prominent height advantage.

"God damn it Harry, stop acting so childish!" retorted Manners, standing also. "As one professional to another, I am trying to protect you from permanent incarceration! You saw how they treated Max Dillon when he was here, how long before they do that to you? How long before Scott tires of waiting to torture you? Hayley can only hold them off for so long! If the prosecution wins, then you will be locked up in here forever and Hayley will loose her job! She will be sent to federal prison for becoming involved with you. Do you want that? Do you? Right now,_ I,_ am your best bet of getting out of here."

Harry clapped slowly, not in a mocking manner, but more in friendly banter. "And that, Manners, is why you are my lawyer," he said whilst sitting back down.

Following suit, Manners took his own seat and loosened his tie, "And I'm a damn good one at that."

There was a pause.

"Fine. What do I have to do?" Harry asked sighing reluctantly and rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"You'll have to flirt with the other nurses," Manners revealed cautiously. Seeing Harry's eyes flash and widen at the request, he quickly continued, "Give them the old Osborn charm. Then we can prove that you're just the ladies man everyone knows you to be. And, it will get Scott off Hayley's back! Flirt with the girls and have some fun."

"Even Peroxide Cheryl?"

"Hey, come on, she isn't_ that_ bad. Pretty laugh, _great_ rack…" Manners mused.

"Why don't you fuck her then if she's so great?"

"I think I will when this is all over."

"She laughs like a horse Manners."

"She'll be squealing like a pig when I've had my way with her."

The two men chuckled and smirked at each other, both imagining their selected conquests in the bedroom.

"Did you at least sort out Hayley's impending financial issues?" asked Harry. He may have to cool off his need for Hayley, but he was still anxious about the arrangement Manners had made regarding her rent.

"I did indeed. I also took the liberty of reading her medical files."

"Oh?"

"I shall bring them next week and we will discuss it further then."

"Why not now"

"Look, Mr Osborn, if we don't get you released then you'll never get Hayley. More concentration on your trial would be greatly appreciated," Manners chastised gently. "Anyway, I've been in contact with a man called Gustav Fiers, and he has expressed an interest in meeting you…"

* * *

Another week had passed at Ravencroft and Hayley was growing used to seeing the enigmatic lawyer roaming the hallways. Manners had a meeting with Harry every other day to discuss the upcoming trial – Doctor Scott had even been kind enough to arrange the lawyer's consultations _before_ her own sessions with Harry. Hayley was certain there was a hidden motive behind the doctor's sudden leniency. As it was, she had her own scheduled gatherings with the doctor, weekly, so he could grill her on Harry's psychological progress. Even though Scott had taken an interest in her field of work and requested her therapy reports, it didn't stop him for intimidating and belittling her. He had become less polished and collected with each passing day due to the stress of having the institution under scrutiny, as Harry's national trial quickly approached. The doctor often stalked the various wings and corridors to take his anger out on unsuspecting staff.

Harry himself had become more relaxed and less sprung in comparison to the rest of Ravencroft. He seemed to relish the attention and drama his crimes had caused, Hayley often noted. Together, they were steadily working through the list of subjects, provided by Manners, which may be brought up during the trial. Some topics they discussed in great lengths whilst others not so much. Sometimes his mood changed depending on what Manners would inform him about the trial but otherwise all was fine. Hayley had seen a vast improvement in Harry's ability to talk about memories that caused him discomfort. He was emerging out of his rich boy persona, becoming more vulnerable and, in his eyes, weak.

However, Hayley only saw this change in him during their therapy. She had heard rumours from the other nurses of Harry openly flirting with the younger women staff. Maybe the flirting was down to being around Manners again, who was a big flirt him. Manners probably made him feel more normal, less like the monster New York knew him to be – Manners reminded him of his former life of rich kid normalcy. It appeared to everyone that he was becoming the old Harry Osborn whose wild antics were published in the papers, but Hayley knew different, She saw him in a different light. He only exposed parts of his soul to _her_, and it made Hayley feel oddly honoured that he had chosen her as a confidant. She ignored the staff gossip but could not deny feeling a twinge of something in her gut every time a new rumour was whispered. In some ways, Harry had become more professional, and they hadn't had any physical contact since their last heated kiss. The only nice thing he had said to her this week was commenting on her hair being back in a pony. And even then, his conviction was weak.

She tried to reason with herself that it was probably for the best that their relationship dynamic had become less platonic and more of a therapist and patient. Especially with Doctor Scott's erotic transference threat constantly weighing on her mind. Hayley couldn't loose her job. Sure she was in a better position financially due to her rent debts being paid, but this sudden stability would not last. She would have to thank Peter for his generosity – it was above and beyond the call of friendship.

Hayley hurried towards the West wing entrance, ten minutes late for her session, because of delays on the subway. She clocked the tall silhouette of Manners standing idly a few feet from Room 136. From far away, the lawyer seemed alone, as his stature concealed any person standing directly in front of him. About to call out to him, Hayley stopped herself and rolled her eyes at hearing a piercing horsey laugh echoing in the hallway. Ergh, Cheryl was there.

As she closed the gap between herself, Manners and Cheryl, Hayley caught a snippet of what they were saying.

"… my nails look lush right Dave? Did I tell you your client practically broke my hand?! But apparently I'm not _worthy_ enough or something…" Cheryl whined clutching at Manner's arm, showing off her newly polished nails to the lawyer who barely gave them a second glance.

"My dear, you are most beautiful, and I think my client only meant that the only _worthy _candidates of enduring his wrath would be those he deemed ugly and unsightly," Manners reassured the girl, gliding his unoccupied hand down her makeup caked face. "Why would anyone want to harm a beauty such as yourself? No, only those who are worthy of harm shall receive it."

It felt like a slap in the face. Hayley felt stupid to think that she even believed for a minute the Goblin's lies, and that being worthy to him meant that she was special. Her face flooded red and her eyes grew damp as Cheryl noticed her watchful presence.

"Hi _Haley_… how's the hand?" the peroxide girl asked nastily, her unkind eyes darting to Hayley's still wrapped fingers.

Not bothering to respond, the redhead stomped past the attractive pair, completely blanking Manners, and walked into the cell without saying a single word. With the door now closed firmly behind her, Hayley closed her eyes and counted to ten, trying to keep her breathing steady. She would hold her resolve; she would not let these rumours and nastiness get to her. Truthfully, Hayley was stumped as to why it was affecting her this much. Probably the stress of Harry's trial, she reasoned with herself, everyone had been acting strange lately.

As usual, Harry was perched on his bed, sitting cross-legged, leafing through a manila file thoughtfully. He looked up at Hayley who was still calming herself by the door. Slowly, he closed the file and slipped it under his pillow, eyeing his therapist carefully. Her sudden presence was unexpected due to her lateness, as he had assumed that she wasn't coming. Harry was always careful not to show that Manners was leaving him files and papers because it was probably not Ravencroft policy. Of course, Hayley had noticed the odd object, the cream colour standing out in the gloomy cell.

"I, I won't tell anyone," she said cautiously and sat on her chair like normal.

"See that you don't," Harry said in a clipped tone. His posture would suggest that his current mood was open and childlike, however his face displayed a very different emotion. He looked pissed off, annoyed and irritated. Hayley had to wonder what Manners had been discussing with him earlier, or whether this frostiness was her doing at having discovered the secret folder. Or maybe Harry just hated that she was late.

They went through the usual routine of Harry taking his medication, though Hayley did notice how he tried not to touch her hand throughout the entire exchange. He wasn't even making eye contact, so much so, that Harry dropped the smaller pill because he wasn't paying proper attention. Quickly administering him a new pill, Hayley tried to catch his eye, offering him small smile and a tiny laugh when the first pill had rolled under his bed, out of sight. Harry was being uncharacteristically unresponsive. And it had her worried.

Hayley adjusted herself in her chair, smoothing out the creases in her trousers and opened her notebook to officially begin the session.

"Now, no doubt your relationship with Gwen Stacy will come up in court, so today we should talk about her and some of the other witnesses that may be called to the stand," Hayley explained. On the lined paper in her lap was a list of four names, two of which she knew were going to cause a reaction. Hopefully Harry wouldn't go too crazy. Hopefully she would not entice the Goblin back from submission. "So, in your own words, please could you explain your relationship with Gwen Stacy."

"I met her one day in OsCorp's elevator."

"And…what did you talk about?"

"I introduced myself, naturally. She was a researcher in one of the labs." His answers were short and gave very little away, especially since Harry kept his voice monotone and steady. Talking about Gwen actually made him very uncomfortable, not that Hayley could tell. Harry knew that he hadn't actually killed the girl but he did feel _slightly_ responsible. Only a tiny bit.

"How did you know her?"

"She was one of my employees," Harry stated.

"Yes I know, but I'm sure you don't know the names of _every_ employee in OsCorp." Hayley already knew how Harry had been introduced to Gwen, and was really trying to coax him into discussing Peter; a subject she knew held some tension.

"She was the girlfriend of a_ former_ friend."

"Former?"

"Yes! Former!" Harry said through gritted teeth, fists clenching "Keep up Hayley!"

Not wanting to press him by mentioning Peter's name just yet, Hayley moved onto the second name on her list, "Felicia Hardy. She's another one of your staff, correct?"

"My personal assistant _actually_."

"Very young to be in such a position of power, wouldn't you agree?"

"That may be, but she is a fantastic assistant, very dedicated to myself and OsCorp…"

"So would you say you trust her?"

"I do completely," smirked Harry "Easy on the eyes too. Met her yet Hayley? I think you'd like her a lot. Very polished and smartly dressed…stunning for a brunette, not boring at all. On your way out, tell Manners that I'd like to set up a meeting with Felicia."

Hayley bristled in her seat but made a note of the request, "If you're allowed more visitors. Anyway, our session isn't over just yet, we have ten minutes left."

"Yes, well, _do_ make sure you tell Manners."

She sighed but tried to keep her annoyance under control. In her mind, Hayley questioned why he would even want to see her? What was the purpose, what did Felicia mean to Harry Osborn? Hayley scribbled down a few more detailed notes before moving onto the third name that was sure to get his blood boiling.

"Now, lets talk about Spider-Man…"

"No. We, are, not, talking about _him!"_

"Harry," she sighed in frustration, "he will come up in court. You will be asked about him, about the fight, and if you know him…"

"Know him? KNOW HIM? Why would I _know HIM?_" Harry shouted, uncrossing his legs and stamping his feet on the ground, "If, you, are, STUPID enough to actually believe that I KNOW Spider-Man, then you are more idiotic than I thought you were."

"But…"

"You're right though, I do know him," Harry admitted, noticing how the girls eyes widened a little at the admission, "I know what he truly is, what type of man lies behind the mask – a FRAUD!"

Growing slightly concerned at his predictable rage, Hayley decided to change tact and mention the final name, to see what he'd reveal now that he was riled up. "And how do you feel about Peter Parker?"

"Parker? PARKER! You DARE mention his name in front of me?"

"I'm just trying to understand your mind Harry," she tried gently "I'm having difficulty understanding how he is, in your words, a 'former' friend. I mean, he's a nice guy, and…"

"NICE? HA! You really are deluded if you think that! He will betray you like he did me, mark my words Hayley, it's only a matter of time. He is NOT your friend, you only think he is. I forbid you to see him, do you understand me? He CANNOT be trusted. He, is, a, fraud! Parker, he only thinks of himself…"

Hayley had had enough.

Standing up, seething, she countered, "How dare you! Peter has been a wonderful friend _ever_ since _you_ took Gwen from me! Peter is kind and giving, I mean he paid my rent! Now, if that's not a good friend…."

Harry felt like a bucket of ice had been poured over him.

"GET OUT!" he yelled snapping to his feet, "Get, the, fuck, out of here!" When the redhead tried to calm him, Harry grabbed hold of both her shoulders and shook her viciously, "You have absolutely, no idea, what is going on do you? You are just some stupid insignificant girl!"

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Just get out. I don't even want to look at you," he replied quietly though his voice continued to shake with venom. He shoved her in the direction of the door.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but you are wrong about him…"

Grabbing the closest thing near him, the chair, Harry threw it at Hayley who barley ducked in time to avoid it. She stood staring at him in shock, not really understanding how the situation had gone down hill so quickly. It was only when the chair clattered on the wall behind that she came to her senses.

"I thought you said if you ever threw a chair at me again you wouldn't miss!" Hayley hissed evenly.

"_Maybe I didn't," _he growled, his piercing eyes now clouding green.

They were back to square one.

* * *

**Guys! How awesome are you all?! I think I've got you hooked haha thank you all for the lovely responses to the smut sections (does that sound weird?) – this story is my first time ever writing smut so yay that you love it! Some Harry POV dream deliciousness for you all to enjoy! **

**All my new readers and guests, Sam, Amy, and Codfish, thank you for reviewing it means so much to me, and also to my faithful reviewers, I love hearing from you too it makes me so happy to share this journey together! Your responses to chapter 13 were overwhelming – think the perv in all of us need Harry to be released ASAP!**

**Theories theories theories guys, you are all so amazing at imagining what's going to happen and it's nice that my story makes you all that excited! Hopefully I still have a few surprises up my sleeve!**

**Also, one lovely Guest asked for Manners likeness, and another Guest said they imagined him as Michael Fassbender – I'm going with that! Fassbender fits perfectly as Manners, especially as I only imagined key features when writing his character, so brownie points and love to that Guest's suggestion – full credit for Manners face (lol) goes to you :D**

**Sorry this update is later than I would have liked – I burnt my fingers on my straighteners so couldn't type for a while :(**

**LOVE you all xxx please rate & review**


	15. Chapter 15

**I do not own Marvel, Spider-Man, or any other characters associated with the franchise (be cool if I did though!) – just my plot, story OC's, and my main girl Hayley.**

* * *

Manners had gone in to calm Harry down at her request after Colin seemed too excited at the prospect of restraining the young billionaire. Hayley had returned to the nurse's station after standing outside his cell, listening to Harry, no, the Goblin, cursing and calling her every name under the sun for a good fifteen minutes. The lawyer had managed to quieten his outburst but had prevented Hayley from re-entering the room – the Goblin was too enraged.

She had tried to distract herself all day by immersing her mind in writing reports on other patients and organising their treatment plans. Hayley had even stayed later than her usual shift time because she was too scared to leave in case Harry might change his mind and ask for her. She could still see those green rage filled eyes glaring at her. Eyes that had once looked at her like she was beautiful, like she was needed, now haunted her in the dark as she walked home from the nearest subway station. It was like Hayley's subconscious didn't want her to forget the devastated and betrayed anguish that Harry had displayed before throwing the chair. If only she knew why he had reacted that way, then maybe her mind would stop imagining his eyes following her. She quickened her pace, drawing closer to her apartment.

A block away from the apartment complex, Hayley noticed five cop cars race by, their blue lights brightening the dark gloomy alleyways surrounding her. It had obviously rained during the day because when the final car sped past, it drenched her legs in a puddle of water. This day was just getting worse and worse. Hayley moved her hand inside her handbag to locate her keys, fingers brushing against Harry's case notebook. Manners had returned it to her an hour after she had fled Room 136, since she had forgot the book during the violent kerfuffle. It was nice that Manners had given back her property but he hadn't spoken a word to her or engaged in eye contact. Just briskly entered the nurse's station and plopped it onto the desk in front of her, leaving before she could even say a word in response. His unnatural coldness left Hayley feeling uneasy.

Turning the corner, Hayley realised that the blue lights and sirens were not getting further away; in fact, she was coming closer to them. The cop cars were now parked outside her apartment building with officers surrounding the area. There was a hubbub of activity considering it was a Wednesday evening. Some of the officers and a detective were interviewing Mr Boothroyd and some of the second floor tenants, their hands moving wildly over their flip notebooks trying to record any possible clues. There was also an ambulance with a girl from the third floor, Katie Royle, sitting in the back, paramedics flashing a torch into her eyes. She was talking to another detective, nodding, tears in her eyes and smudged mascara all down her cheeks. What the hell was going on?

Mr Boothroyd motioned towards her and Hayley pushed through the numerous people surrounding the sidewalk.

"Hey Mr Boothroyd, what happened? What's going on?"

The old man shook his sadly and nodded towards Katie, "You know first floor got burgled last week? Well, Katie came home and her door was open. Silly girl walked in and found her belongings all over the place. Didn't realise the bastard was still inside." He stopped and looked at Hayley still staring at Katie who was now being ushered into a police car, no doubt going to the station for further questioning. They both watched the cops take Katie away before Mr Boothroyd continued, "When the bastard heard Katie scream, he ran out of her bedroom, knocked her down and stole her purse. Then he did a runner before anyone saw anything useful."

"Did she see his face? Will the police find him?"

"Nah. Wearing a mask or something, maybe a balaclava. Katie's memories foggy 'cause of the concussion, and you know I haven't got the money for security cameras. Stupid cops suggested getting cameras and changing all the locks in the building. I told them, that if they wanted to give me the money, then I happily would! Times are hard Hayley, I haven't got the cash for fifteen stories of locks!" Mr Boothroyd scowled, mainly angry at himself that he couldn't protect his tenants. "I'll tell you the same as I'm telling everyone else; if you want to pay to change the locks on your apartment, then that's fine, just keep me informed."

Hayley nodded, knowing that she and the landlord both knew that not many people would be able to afford buying new door locks. Especially since the building was so old that the whole door would probably have to be replaced. She placed a comforting hand on Mr Boothroyd's arm and walked into the building, wanting nothing more than to escape the huge crowd and just go to sleep.

It took a further fifteen minutes of negotiating with the cops, proving that she was indeed a tenant and would not contaminate the crime scene on the third floor, before she was allowed to leave the foyer.

Before ascending up the stairs to her apartment, Hayley walked to row of lockers underneath the stairwell; Mr Boothroyd was once a school headmaster in his prime, and when going into the property rental business, he had taken some old school equipment to furnish the apartment block. This included small things like stereotypical school clocks in each flat and the foyer, plastic lunchroom chairs in the laundry room, and metal dial combination lockers for each resident's letters and parcels. How Mr Boothroyd remembered all the different number codes, she would never know, but the old man had devised an ingenious way to inform his residents that they'd received mail. Mini red flags, like the ones on suburban mailboxes, were attached to each locker and erected when the mail had been delivered. Usually Hayley's mail arrived like clockwork – the dreaded monthly bill day. So it was unusual for her red flag to be waving at her midmonth. Even though she felt excited at the prospect of a letter, Hayley was a tad suspicious because, like rarely receiving phone calls, no one knew where she lived other than her bill issuers.

Cautiously, she twisted the dial left, the right, then right again, and finally left until the lock clicked open. Her locker contained not a letter but a medium sized pristine white box. On the top was her full name printed in white capitals on a fancy sleek black label. The presentation alone was so formal that Hayley thought there might have been a mistake if her name weren't on it. She also realised that her address was not printed on the label – it had been hand delivered! Who knew where she lived? Hayley clutched at the box nervously, looking behind her and around the foyer to check that she was semi-alone. Taking a seat on the plastic school chair next to the lockers, Hayley tentatively opened the box, peaking carefully inside in case there was a bomb or a dead rat. She laughed quietly to herself at how stupid she was being because if there was a bomb inside then she was already screwed. Hayley frowned and began to shake at seeing the contents, almost dropping it in disbelief. Inside was a large tub of Sliver Sulfadiazine cream and three months worth of Co-codamol and Amitriptyline, all the correct dosage.

How was this even possible?

She took out each medication in turn, inspecting it, and was surprised to see that they even had her patient and hospital details on it. This medication hadn't been stolen or bought from some seedy drug dealer. It was the real deal from NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital. How could someone other than her procure her personal medication? Wasn't it illegal? And the cost of three months worth did not come cheap let alone one month. This package truly was a gift. A gift that terrified her.

Hidden at the bottom of the box was a note. Hayley put the medication back in box and lifted the note out, holding her breath. Same as the label on the box, the card note had been printed meaning Hayley wouldn't be able to identify the sender's handwriting. The note was simple;

_Dear Hayley_

_from_

_your friend._

Peter?

But how _could_ it be? Hayley doubted that as a photographer for the Daily Bugle Peter Parker would have the necessary connections and detective skills to pull off a stunt like this. Or the money. And, now that she really thought about it, how would Peter have money the to pay her rent on a photographers salary whilst supporting his Aunt May? Looking back at the note, Hayley had no doubt in her mind that the stranger who paid her rent also sent this package. She flipped the note over seeing if anything else was written on the back. Her face paled. In the bottom right corner was a bold black logo with a small silver honeycomb pattern beside it; OsCorp.

Harry. Her mystery benefactor was Harry Osborn.

The breath that was caught in her throat started to become shallow, Hayley gasped for air as reality hit of who her 'friend' was. She didn't even question how this would be possible with Harry being in prison because she was certain that Manners must have helped him. Harry Osborn was the most powerful twenty year old in New York, and if he wanted something done then it would be done. He was the _only_ person in her life to have the connections and money to pull off a stunt like this. The main question was _why_ was Harry interfering with her personal life and _why_ would he even care? She was nothing to him! She was just a nurse, nothing special. So insignificant to him that he even threw a chair at her.

Hayley groaned and put her face in her hands. How could she have been so blind? No wonder Harry threw the chair; he had been angry and had every right to be. She had given Peter credit for his generosity. She felt like a failure. Guilt washed over her and tears of disappointment rolled down her cheeks. Was she that bad of a therapist to have not realised this sooner? Her behaviour and wrongful assumption had caused Harry to regress, had brought forth the Goblin's understandable rage at her mistake. Hayley had never felt this bad in her life. She was a disappointment to the medical community, to her degree, and to Harry.

Knowing in her mind that there was nothing she could do to make it right, Hayley sighed forlornly, dragging herself up from where she sat before trudging upstairs with the package from Harry.

When she passed the third floor Hayley saw that poor Katie's apartment had been blocked off with police tape. At least Hayley could look forward to a banana and a pot noodle in bed, unlike Katie. God her life really sucked right now. She felt so terrible about the pain that she had obviously caused Harry that Hayley almost tripped up the last flight, because moving her feet seemed like such a chore.

One question still remained, eating away at her whilst she tried to sleep - what did she mean to Harry Osborn?

* * *

"_Are you seriously going to mope around all day?"_ asked the Goblin as he sat on Harry's cell bed. The boy was being a real ball ache! Ever since he'd thrown that chair at Ginge, Harry had refused to talk to him, even letting the Goblin have a full blown shouting match with Manners when he had come in to calm them down. "_The games are just beginning Harry, you really need to start playing a few rounds instead of leaving it up to me!"_

If Harry was in control of his body he'd have rolled his eyes, "I like playing with people as much as they next guy, heck if life was Monopoly, I'd own every bloody property and hotel on the board! None of this get out of jail free card bullshit! But Hayley's not part of the game, not like those models, she's more – "

"_Complicated?"_

"No. No, she's not complicated. Models are complicated. It's this situation that's making it complicated," Harry explained exasperatedly. If he and the Goblin were part of the same psyche like Hayley said, then why didn't the green guy bloody understand?

"_Oi! I can hear you think, idiot!"_ the Goblin shook his head and began to inspect his normal looking nails in a manner typical of boredom, _"Did you not read the same file as I did? The medical report Manners brought us was fucked up; Ginge brings new meaning to the word complicated."_

"Where's your sense of adventure? I thought you like a challenge," Harry goaded.

"_Make up your god damn mind! One minute you're sulking because you have to flirt with nurses and can't snog Ginge on a daily basis, and next you're saying its all part of the challenge? Maybe you are bipolar…"_

"Will you just shut it!"

"_You can't get rid of me that easily," _snarled the Goblin, lying back on the bed and closed his eyes to fully focus on their conversation. _"Now, not that I care, but since we are in an asylum, would you like to discuss your 'feelings'? Come now Harry, let's talk like civilised people."_

"Civilised people don't throw chairs at a girl they fancy," Harry hissed, implying that there was nothing remotely civilised about his alter ego.

"_Don't fucking sass me! You and I both know how angry you felt knowing she believes Parker paid her rent! Why do you think I came out to play, hmmm? Your anger is what I feed off of, so don't blame it all on me!"_ The Goblin was really tired of Harry's lack of responsibility for their actions and constant denial for his own feels. He was certain that Harry hadn't been this indecisive before they got locked up in Ravencroft – maybe the isolation was getting to the boy.

"Don't you feel like you over reacted just a little bit?"

"_Don't play stupid Harry, it doesn't look good on you."_

"If she hadn't been Gwen's friend then, maybe, argh, I don't know. She thinks we killed her! That we took Gwen's life! How the fuck are we meant to move past that?" Harry argued.

"_Oh come on! Is that the root of all this? You feel guilty? How quaint. Such a weakling, just like your father," _the Goblin sneered, "_Did we kill that blonde bitch? No._ _Spider-Man did, and – "_

"Yes, _we _know that – she doesn't."

"_- and in over a week, Ginge and the whole world will know that Spider-Man is a fraud. That he is guilty for murdering the girl," _said the Goblin, confident that their freedom was on the horizon, "_She'll come running back, they always do."_

Their conversation was cut short by the cell door opening and Manners striding in. He held a bottle of water and a small white pot of tablets.

"Brought you some sweets Mr Osborn."

* * *

Over the next four days Manners continued to visit Harry and bring him his daily medication. Before handing back Hayley's notebook, Manners had taken the liberty of reading it, making notes on her observations and treatment techniques. It was then that he discovered her little secret of slipping Harry the drugs Co-codamol and Quetiapine. Manners was rather surprised that a girl as meek and quiet as Hayley would not consult the other doctors before medicating Harry. Hell, what she was doing was illegal! However, after reading through her notes he began to realise that the redhead was only trying to protect his client by not properly documenting the medication on Ravencroft's system. Manners agreed that the ever so wonderful Doctor Scott would probably be more aggressive in Harry's treatment if he discovered Hayley's schizophrenia diagnosis.

And after the abuse the lawyer had received from his client during his fit of rage, Manners was inclined to believe that Harry could indeed be schizophrenic. God the press would have a field day. So Manners took it upon himself to continue medicating Harry like the girl would in their daily sessions. It had taken him a couple of days to acquire the correct pills from one of his sources, during which time Harry had began further caving in on himself, nearly attacking Manners. It was only when he had forced Harry to take the medication again that he become convinced that Hayley had been correct in her diagnosis. The Quetiapine, used to treat schizophrenia, was working wonders in calming Harry down. It was all the proof Manners needed to respect Hayley for breaking the law – she truly did have his client's best interests at heart.

Manners would keep everything a secret, even from Hayley, because she needed to believe that Harry was fine without her. That way she could make a clean break and distance herself from the Osborn kid – it was the only way they were ever going to win the trial with this whole erotic transference malarkey. The shady lengths he would go to protect Harry Osborn was unprecedented.

That's what Manners was thinking as he listened to Harry barking in his ear about Felicia Hardy's upcoming visit. Since Manners hadn't spoken to Hayley when he returned her notebook, she had left him a note at Ravencroft's reception about Harry's request to see Miss Hardy.

"- I don't even want see Felicia. Why would you think it a good idea? I thought you had more sense then that!"

"Then why even tell Miss Carmichael to make me arrange it?" Manners queried getting frustrated now, "You asked for this! What was the point?"

"You told me to flirt with other girls! I was trying to make Hayley jealous!" Harry explained, "I didn't _really _want Felicia to come"

"Well, maybe you can use Miss Hardy's visit to your advantage," advised Manners knowingly. Harry may have being rich in his favour when making girls swoon, but the lawyer oozed the suave sophistication that only a man in his late thirties could possess – he had more game than the Osborn kid any day. And when Harry didn't immediately respond to his suggestion, Manners elaborated, "Continue to make the girl jealous Mr Osborn, make, her, jealous. Girls always want the guy more when the green eyed monster is involved, if you'll pardon the expression."

Harry's startling blue eyes flashed, a green tinge appearing and then quickly disappearing, long before Manners had time to really notice it, "You're right Manners. The green eyed monster is certainly a game changer."

* * *

When Hayley got to work the next day there was a post it note on her computer screen. It from Manners, his usual cursive scrawl telling her that Harry had requested her presence at 10am. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was already half past nine – the busy subway this morning had made her later than usual. Hayley didn't really know how to feel about the note; on one hand she felt relieved that the Goblin's anger had subsided and that he'd asked for her, but on the other, did she really want to see him after how he treated her?

It didn't really matter what the answer was, because she was a professional and her personal preferences shouldn't even come into the equation. Though, at least now she could thank Harry for his financial aid. That's what Hayley would do. She would thank him and then put a stop to this 'thing' between the two of them. Besides, it was pretty clear to her that Harry often had 'things' with many girls, his personal assistant included. And obviously Hayley was no exception.

After looking at the clock again, she saw that she had ten minutes to get to the West wing. Hayley breathed deeply, in and out, trying to prepare herself for seeing Harry again – who knew what kind of mood he'd be in today.

As Hayley walked along the corridors of the West wing, she spotted a strange girl emerging from Harry's cell. The stranger was a dark brunette with bangs that framed her petite heart shaped face. The black dress she wore fit her body like a glove, showing off her slim frame with a fitted waist and a short A line skirt. The smoky makeup around her eyes made her creamy skin stand out; Hayley noticed that the girl had those little eyeliner cat eye flicks, a makeup trick that she'd tried once and miserably failed at. The girl held herself with grace and an air of superiority, not in a snooty way, but rather that she was sure of herself, comfortable in her skin, unlike Hayley. As the girl walked closer, Hayley spotted how her cheeks were unnaturally flushed, that her lips were rouged and swollen with the surrounding makeup smudged and uneven. The brunette's hair was slightly dishevelled and she even had a strange dark red almost purple mark on her collarbone.

As the two women passed each other in the hall, Hayley caught a glimpse of the name on the Ravencroft visitors pass clipped onto the girl's black dress; Felicia Hardy. Hayley quickly looked down at the floor not wanting to engage in conversation with Harry's beautiful personal assistant. However, this time, her shyness didn't make her invisible.

Flashing a perfect pearly white smile, Felicia extended out her hand, "Hi. I noticed your heading to Room 136, are you going to see Mr Osborn?"

"Erm, yes, yes I am," Hayley confirmed uneasily, feeling the assistant's black polished nails scratching her skin slightly as they clasped hands in an introductory shake. The girl seemed nice enough but Hayley didn't like her actions being questioned in her own work place.

"Are you giving Mr Osborn his medication? The weekly schedule I have clearly states that he receives Amitriptyline nightly, and-" Felicia checked her skinny Rolex "- it is only 10am." She smiled, politely enough, though she began to flick through some papers attached to an A4 Filofax, pointing at the Harry's timetabled physician visits.

"I am Harry's-"

"Harry?" Felicia's lip curled at the familiarity shown by being on a first name basis with a patient.

"- erm, I'm Mr Osborn's psychologist and leading nurse," Hayley said, not liking the way the girl now looked her up and down, as if assessing her credibility.

"Oh? Dave Manners mentioned you had been suspended as Mr Osborn's nurse. Since the trial is two weeks away, his own court appointed doctors and psychiatrist will be overseeing his treatment for the trials duration," the brunette explained.

Hayley swallowed thickly, aware that she was blinking a little too much more than normal, "I, er, I didn't… I'll have to check with Doctor Scott," she replied meekly, "though I will need to check in on him since he asked me to." Why had no one told her she'd been suspended from his case? Did their argument in the previous session really have that much of an effect on him? Was his refusal to see her all week that strong that she had now lost him as a patient?

"Of course he did," Felicia smiled stifling a knowing titter "well, try not to unsettle him. He is in a _very _good mood today," she continued, biting her lower lip suggestively. And with a little goodbye waggle of her fingers, Felicia prowled down the hall away from Hayley, her hips swaying like she was on a catwalk.

Hayley sniffed and rubbed at her eyes, which were itching and still contained a small tear that her furious blinking had not removed. She straightened her posture and put her professional mask back on, not wanting to show Harry any more weakness. Knocking on the window to announce her arrival, Hayley opened the large door, curious as to where Colin was – probably on another cigarette break. That guy really had an addiction.

Once inside, she quickly closed the door behind her.

As per usual, Harry was sprawled on his bed, legs akimbo and fully relaxed, his eyes and skin, thankfully, normal. Hayley became much calmer upon seeing that she hadn't fully unleashed the Goblin from their tiff earlier in the week. She also noticed that he had a rather smug grin on his face, like a satisfied cat that had got the cream.

"H…Harry?"

Instantly his demeanour changed, his shoulders tensed and his dreamy eyes narrowed as he stared at her, "What are you doing here?"

"You, you asked for me didn't you?" Now Hayley was really confused.

"Did I? I don't think I would have. It's not like I want to see you," he spat, turning to look at the wall to prove his point.

"But I got a note. It said you wanted to…"

"Well, there must have been a mistake. I have no reason to see_ you_!" Harry snarled unkindly

"Then who…?

"I don't know, maybe Manners? Why don't you bother him with your pointless questions?"

Turning back the way she'd come, Hayley couldn't help muttering under her breath "And Felicia said you were in a good mood."

Harry let out a low cackle, his time in the relatively silent cell having heightened his sense of hearing. "I was before _you_ showed up," he spoke, smiling when he saw the hurt in her eyes "Felicia is the kind of girl that brightens the room, unlike you. She really knows how to make a man _happy._ Bright, bubbly, beautiful, in a sense, _perfect_," Harry purred sending one nasty jab after another.

"Of course she is," Hayley whispered with a sniff. Do not cry, do not cry, she thought over and over. With hands clasped firmly on the door, she drew enough strength to say one final thing, "Thank you, Mr Osborn, for the money and medication. It was a pleasure doing business with you."

Surprised by her words, Harry turned sharply towards the door with every intention of standing and going to her to make sure he'd heard the door slammed shut before he even had the chance. Harry simply stood and stared at where her deflated body had been, guilt washing over him in waves as he considered her choice of words.

"What am I even doing?" he asked quietly to no one in particular.

"_What you have to do. Don't start being weak now you imbecile!" _the Goblin soothed in the only way he knew best – by insulting Harry.

"Did you not hear her? She practically said our relationship was purely business!"

"_And your pleasurable yet beneficial relationship with Felicia isn't?"_

"That's different, she works for me," Harry shot back hotly. "Besides, Hayley called me Mr Osborn, and she's _never_ done that!"

"_Jesus Christ, pull yourself together! This whole 'woe is me' act is getting old Harry! You sound like a spoilt little rich kid who hasn't got his way!"_

"Well…"

"_Fine. Bad comparison. Ginge WILL be ours, you just have to be patient," _the Goblin scowled getting fed up with the weakness his alter ego was showing. "_Jealousy takes time to manifest itself completely. Besides, when we win this trial, when we are free, then you can stop this charade and gain control over Ginge again."_

Looking towards the dirty mirror, Harry smirked at the Goblin's words and looked at his reflection. If it was one thing that an Osborn wanted most, it was control.

* * *

**DRAMA! – Sorry it's a little short, I just didn't want to keep you waiting, and I know this chapter's a tad filler but it is necessary my loves!**

**So, the next chapter I am going to make EPICALLY long because, 1. We reached 100 reviews OMFG I LOVE YOU, and 2. It's time to get our Harry OUT of Ravencroft YAY! I'm estimating, 2 or 3 more chaps before he is officially released HALLELUJAH. I'm sorry it's taken a while to get to this point and I hope I'm not losing readers because of this; I just want to realistically show the 5month incarceration progression mentioned in the film.**

**Also, this might make you laugh guys, but when I'm writing this fic, I'm slightly conscious that it is set in America, so I subtly tailor my language to reflect this. For instance, in the UK, I would say 'lift' and the US would be 'elevator', 'police' to 'cop', 'post' I change to 'mail', 'tap' to 'faucet', 'pavement' to 'sidewalk' etc. I think I only know these things because of watching TV lol I don't mind doing it because I think it gives my story more realism and cements it in the country of origin. Thought I'd let you in on my secret because I was doing this earlier and it made me laugh :P The only thing you might notice me not change is 'colour' to 'color' – that's my one UK spelling I'm keeping hehe! **

**Love you all and lots of hugs and thanks for those who read, review, follow, favourite and all that jazz XXX**


	16. Chapter 16

**I do not own Marvel, The Amazing Spider-Man 2, or any character affiliated with the franchise. However, there is a scene from the movie in this chapter – I have developed it and built upon the dialogue to further cement my story within the film universe canon. I do not make any money etc. by putting this into my story and I am not promoting the film (though it is awesome), it is merely needed to aid the plot and fictional writings of a crazy moose i.e. me, the author. Enjoy.**

* * *

Hayley was finding work stressful, and today had proved especially hard with her surprise introduction to Felicia Hardy. She knew that seeing the OsCorp assistant was inevitable. With the impending trial, Hayley knew that she would see many of OsCorp's employees, specifically Felicia, but had hoped that their meeting would be in a court setting. The brunette had got under her skin, rattled the little self-confidence she had, and Harry's account of how perfect Felicia was had only made Hayley feel worse.

So she had declined the offer of extending her shift that day. Instead, Hayley had followed her feet to find sanctuary and comfort with an old friend.

"Hey, Gwen! I know it's been a while but I could really use your help," Hayley said looking directly at her friend's gravestone before kneeling down beside it. "You'd be so proud of me today! I stopped it Gwen. This 'thing' between Harry and me, is over. It can't continue anyway, now that I'm no longer treating him. So, it's probably for the best." She nodded her head and pursed her lips, trying to convince herself that her last sentence held some truth.

Hayley continued talking, hoping that the tears that threatened to spill would be contained if she just kept talking, "He's doing fine without me, I mean he's back to normal, right, he seems to have the Goblin under control. Maybe he didn't need the pills after all. Maybe I imagined that they were helping him or I simply just wanted them to help him. Then everyone would see I was a good therapist that I deserved to be more at Ravencroft. Though, obviously I was wrong because he, is, fine. Fine! I'm truly not a good therapist.

"I'm falling apart Gwen; I'm loosing myself, again. And where are you when I need you most? I'm alone now! I have no one, don't you get it! You were my friend and you abandoned me! We were meant to have plans that night, but you never showed! I was worried sick and you wouldn't return my calls, I even tried Peter, but nothing!"

She stopped, turning sharply upon hearing a twig snap and the nearby bushes rustle. Nothing. Hayley was alone. Though, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Looking around again just to be certain, she locked eyes with a stone angel over by the sycamore tree a couple of yards behind her. She shook her head at her own stupidity – graveyards were creepy.

Hayley directed her attention back to Gwen's grave, ducking her head and clutched at the memorial stone with a trembling hand, "Where were you? Why were you at OsCorp Power plant anyway Gwen? It's like when you_ had_ to help make that antidote for the lizard last year – you put yourself in unnecessary danger! You can't save everyone, you know? You made me feel alive, you made me feel like me again, like the best version of me; you were my everything and now your gone. You left me! And now, now…" She stopped and tried to compose herself, "It's ironic really. I thought god had abandoned me in the fire and now I'm here confessing my sins and woes in a graveyard.

"I'm irrelevant right? That's why he's fine without me, that is why he doesn't need me, why no one ever needs me. He barely even noticed I'm gone. I'm nothing to nobody now. But, he _did_ need me, he _chose_ me! Out of the whole institute he chose me and then he just throws me away like everyone else!" Hayley was growing angry now; bitterness drenched her delivery, every word dripping with distain, "You should have seen his assistant Gwen, god, she was stunning. I could never fit the bill, you know, how can I compete with that? They did _something_ in that cell - they must have had a moment, or something. She had a hickey on her neck, you could barely miss it, shining like a bright red danger sign. It was like he _wanted_ me to see. Like a predator **marking their possession." She looked down to her now healed fingers. They were still bandaged. Hayley was almost reluctant to remove the dressings as it reminded her of the time when he had marked her as his, in a twisted sort of way. He said she was worthy then, worthy of his attention, affection, and even his anger.

"Listen to me! Why do I even care? Like, what's wrong with me that I want to get involved with Harry Osborn. He killed you Gwen. He's a murderer. A murderer who I kissed. I'm so ashamed Gwen. But he makes me feel alive, like I'm worth something, like I matter, like I can do anything. I only want what's best for him. I'm not stupid though, I know I can't change him but I thought I was bringing out the best in him. Like he brought out the best in me.

"Maybe I am worthless, maybe I am weak. I wasn't always though. I was strong once, before…" she trailed off, looking towards part of the graveyard that she avoided like the plague. The place where her parents were buried. "And when I went to England and got my degree, I felt strong then. I wanted to change people's lives; I wanted to save them from their self-destruction. Maybe that's why I'm so drawn to him… I can't do anything to help him now.

"Was I too easy? Was that why he lost interest? Or maybe he's just ignoring me like what a child would do. It's kind of like when you're a kid and you play kiss chase in the playground. You always run from the boy you like because it's scary and he might like you too. But then he would kiss all the other girls and not you, so that meant he didn't like you right?" Hayley chuckled dryly and picked at one of the dead flowers around the grave absentmindedly, "Not that I would know – no one would go near me after the accident. Anyway, the boy that never chased you actually liked you too. So maybe Harry does like me. Is it wrong that I want him to like me? These feelings I have, Gwen, they can't be rational! I wish you were here, because, how I feel, I can barely put it into words… I… I _like_ him."

There was a strange muffled sound that almost sounded like a swear, which carried on the wind right into Hayley's ear. She scanned the graves and bushes that were dotted around, making doubly sure that she was indeed alone. The graveyard seemed empty enough to her apart from the imposing watchful stone angels.

"I could be sneaky, I could be smart, smart like you Gwen. Maybe I could use a bit of psychology know how on him, after all it is one of my strengths." Reaching up to the back of her head, Hayley pulled out her hair tie, her auburn locks cascading down to her shoulders with a few limp strands moving gently in the wind. "He doesn't own me, he doesn't control me! It pissed him off when my hair wasn't in its usual style; he noticed me then," she smiled sadly, remembering how insistent he'd been that day – Harry enjoyed pulling her hair, and, truth be told, she liked it too.

With a plan set on her mind and soul now bared, Hayley stood stiffly, her legs tired from her kneeling. She grabbed her handbag and decided that to take the long way home to stretch her legs.

If she hadn't been so absorbed in her sorrow, Hayley would have noticed that her feeling of being watched held some credibility. Behind a nearby rose bush sat Peter Parker; on his way to visit Gwen he had noticed the redhead sobbing and kneeling beside the grave. As much as Peter wanted to go to her, something told him not to, his Spidey senses tingling. And, well, he wasn't that good dealing with his own emotions, let alone other peoples! So Peter had quickly ducked behind a sycamore tree and stayed hidden by the bushes for the majority of Hayley's confession. Luckily for them both the cemetery had been empty, therefore his spying went undisturbed and unnoticed, even by Hayley.

Peter watched her leave, walking the long way round as usual, before letting out a slow breath before sitting back on the ground more comfortably. He ruffled his hair thoughtfully not to sure how to process all the information he'd just heard. It sounded like Harry was causing trouble as always and that his patent for women hadn't changed. But what disturbed Peter the most was Hayley's obvious attraction to his estranged friend. Although he knew Harry had that effect on people, he always thought Hayley had more dignity than to be sucked into the Osborn charm. Obviously Peter was wrong. Hayley was more damaged than even Gwen had let on, and it made him sad to realise that he didn't really know her at all.

He remembered when Gwen first introduced the pair; Hayley had returned from England and was meeting her best friend for late night Chinese. He'd only tagged along at Gwen's insistence, instantly regretting it upon seeing the redhead's energy deplete when she learnt that there would be three for dinner, not two. Gwen hadn't noticed her friend's sadness, as she was too excited at seeing her old friend, and talked non-stop when Hayley would only offer one-word answers about her time abroad. Peter knew that his girlfriend had the best intentions; she wanted the two most important people in her life to be friends and get to know one another. But it seemed that Hayley desired quality girl time and unfortunately Peter had denied her that. And he continued to be the person standing between her friendship with Gwen, as his girlfriend's busy schedule and his vigilante lifestyle meant she would unintentionally blow her plan's with Hayley on a regular basis. For that reason alone, Peter knew they would never be real friends.

Rubbing his face, Peter ignored the memories of the past and tried to refocus. Helping Hayley was out of the question – she was too involved with Harry to be considered an ally anymore, and at this point the tiny shred of friendship they may have had had probably been compromised. Peter didn't know if he could trust her, trust Hayley to stand by him if he did reveal what happened that night, if she finally discovered that he was Spider-Man. He could tell that she was confused, heck, he was bloody confused. But his mind was clear when it came to Harry, hers was not.

He'd have to keep a closer eye on the redhead.

For her sake…and for his.

* * *

Apart from his illness and billion-dollar fortune, Harry had also inherited Norman Osborn's short fuse and lack of patience – he wanted things when he wanted them and did not like having to wait. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that this cat and mouse game with Hayley was really starting to test his patience. And having the Goblin goading him and giving snarky commentary wasn't helping to improve his grouchy mood. Even Felicia's visit had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Sure, he enjoyed fooling around with a pretty girl, but she wasn't _the _prettiest girl in his sights; Hayley was.

Since he had been relatively Goblin outburst free for the last three months of his now five month stay at Ravencroft, not counting his most recent episode, Manners had been able to secure new privileges for his client. Harry had been having his meals brought to his cell daily during his incarceration, as his condition was deemed to dangerous to be around other inmates. However, after Felicia's visit, Manners returned later in the day to inform Harry of the good news. The trial was just over a week away and the lawyer had gone to Doctor Scott, asking for Harry to eat his meals in the Ravencroft canteen. Manners wanted to show the courts that his client was civilised enough to not be provoked by people and normal situations. Whereas Doctor Scott had only agreed because he was determined for the Osborn kid to fail and be locked up in his institution for good.

That was three days ago.

Currently, Harry was sitting alone at a table in the large canteen eating a disgusting ham and cheese sandwich; as soon as he was free he'd order in some decent food, probably shawarma from that place he liked downtown. He ate alone like he did at ever meal time, choosing to sit away from the other inmates so that he could observe them and assess their possible usefulness. In particular, he watched the bald man from Room 125, a Russian mobster called Aleksei Sytsevich, and Kinsey. There was something off about the latter inmate. Manners had done a background check on the man, who was in on charges of stalking, assault, rape, and murder. All victims were women. All were redheads. No wonder the guy looked at Hayley like she was a piece of meat. It made Harry sick.

He'd had to watch Kinsey stare at his girl, every lunchtime since he'd been permitted to use the canteen. Being under the impression that Hayley's only role at Ravencroft was as nurse and sometimes psychiatrist, Harry had been rather surprised to see her in the lunchroom watching over the inmates at midday. Apparently, all the nurses were on a weekly canteen rota to stand watch with the prison guards in case an inmate became unruly or entered into an uncontrollable psychosis. It was ironic really that his little redhead had been timetabled to work the lunch shift this week, especially since Harry was trying to distance himself. It appeared fate had other plans.

To be honest, Kinsey wasn't the only inmate that stared at Hayley; men locked up day in and day out with minimal female contact were bound to have their eyes glaze over in lust. The female nurses were subjected to catcalls and wondering eyes when they worked in the canteen but all had grown used to the abuse. However, for Harry, to witness this kind of barbaric behaviour directed at _his_ ginger doll made his blood boil with rage; the Goblin had concocted intricate and painful plans to kill every single bastard that she attracted.

Harry, who was supposed to be ignoring her, found that his sparkling blue orbs were constantly drawn in her direction like magnets. She seemed to have under gone a small transformation, much to Harry's pleasure, the defiant little minx. The long black fitted skirt had made a delightful return along with a splash of pink lip-gloss and some cheap patent kitten heels. And, much to his displeasure, her hair was back in that prudish bun, all it's auburn beauty tied up in a tight ball.

Even though she was stood across the room, Harry had a strong urge to go to her, rip her hair out of that bun and then drag her to his cell. He was frustrated to be so close to her and yet unable to do anything. Plus, it didn't help matters that she seemed to be ignoring him too. On the rare occasion that he managed to catch her eye, Hayley would quickly look away; it only made Harry more determined to have her – no one ignored an Osborn, not by choice.

"_Really Harry? Are we going to have this conversation, again? Isn't it a good thing that she's ignoring you?"_

Harry rolled his eyes and clenched his fist, squishing the revolting sandwich. "No, it's not a _good_ thing, actually! _We,_ are the game maker, _she_ is the player," he thought, speaking to the Goblin in this mind, "She _should_ be the one making sideways glances!"

"_And yet here you are, not able to keep your eyes from her," _the Goblin chastised gently, _"I think Ginge is playing her own game… how delightful."_

"I think I'll ask Manners to arrange a meeting with her – "

"_WHAT?!"_

Rolling his eyes again with a sigh, Harry rubbed at his temples from the slight discomfort it caused to converse with himself mentally, "Oh please, like you don't want to see her either. This whole keeping our distance thing will only continue to work if she is reminded whose boss – that hairstyle _needs_ to be addressed."

"_So petty and petulant Harry."_

"Fuck you," Harry snarled aloud, drawing a few hard glares from suspicious prisoners. Even Hayley had broken her frosty act and quickly darted concerned eyes in his direction. Throwing the mulched sandwich on his tray, Harry spoke again, mentally, to the Goblin, "If she continues to look that way, then…god knows! Kinsey's practically drooling, and his trousers aren't _that_ tight because they're a few sizes too small. He's an animal and she can't be alone with him."

"_True," _the Goblin considered slowly.

"I will remind her to dress appropriately."

"_Only if you must."_

* * *

Both men were sitting in Room 136, legs crossed, arms folded, brows furrowed; waiting.

Manners glanced at his silver Rolex, conscious that as the minutes ticked by, Harry was more inclined to get ticked off. At his client's request, Manners had emailed Hayley and put a post-it on her desk the previous day, to inform her of the proposed meeting.

"She's late."

"Yes, by three minutes," Manners coughed, shifting uncomfortably, noticing how the air between the two had altered, the room suddenly feeling heavy and dangerous. Glancing at the boy, Manners could see that Harry was irritated, a scowl fixed on his face, foot tapping impatiently.

"She knows I don't like tardiness," Harry bite out as he inspected his nails trying to convey an air of calm though he knew that his lawyer wasn't fooled. His eyes were trained on Manners' watch, his ears attuned to the harsh ticking that seemed to echo around him with each passing minute.

Five minutes.

Harry's jaw clenched.

Ten minutes.

His breathing quickened and became erratic.

Fifteen minutes.

Harry stood suddenly, kicking the chair from beneath him and grabbing Manners by the shoulders.

"Go find her. NOW!" he snarled, shoving the lawyer away from him, his face scrunched in manic anger.

Manners quickly left the cell to find the redhead, realising that his client was starting to loose his patience. Quickly.

Pacing up and down the length of his small room, Harry kicked at his chair again, sending it sailing into the chair Manners had previously occupied. Both chairs clattered against the wall, the sound of metal on stone resonating loudly in the four confining walls. Harry growled in frustration as he ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

"Where. The. Hell. Is. SHE?!" he bellowed stalking over to the door and banging his fist against the window, "WHERE IS SHE? Bring her here NOW!"

The anger suddenly became overwhelming and Harry made a grab for the discarded chairs, throwing one at the mirror over his sink. The mirror cracked but did not shatter. Harry roared again. Feelings of loneliness and abandonment from his childhood began to re-emerge, which only heightened the distress he felt at Hayley not turning up for their meeting. She was _always_ there when he needed her. Hadn't she told him once that she'd never truly leave him? Lies! It was all lies!

Harry continued to destroy his room for a good fifteen minutes before collapsing, exhausted on his bed.

"_Feel better? Enjoy your little tantrum? You, are the one who pushed her away! Why would Ginge come today now she's no longer treating us?" _questioned the Goblin casually, "_You have no one to blame but – "_

"Stop! Just. STOP!" Harry retorted, gripping his head with both hands wanting to rip the monstrous id from his mind. His breathing had become more laboured from his violent exertion and it seemed only to be getting worse with the realisation that Hayley was indeed not coming today. It was his own fault that she'd left him. Everyone left him and it was always his fault; he was going to die alone.

The door rattled and the hinges screeched open.

Lifting his head hopefully, Harry waited for her to walk into the room. When she didn't immediately appear, the small feeling of hope quickly slipped away, "Get in here Hayley. NOW!"

Four armed guards waltzed in followed by Colin and Nurse Cadence.

"Stand up and put ya hands on ya 'ead," Colin stated gruffly as the guards with guns quickly surrounded Harry, who was still lying on the dishevelled bed.

He was in no mood for this shit. "And why do I need to do that?" Harry asked steadily through gritted teeth, before flashing a wide mocking grin to the party of six.

Nurse Cadence walked forward to explain; "It's time for the real therapy to begin Mr Osborn."

* * *

Manners had searched high and low for Hayley but the girl was elusive! No one seemed to know where she was and when he had gone to the Nurse's station, her desk had not changed from the previous day when he'd left her the post-it note. Said note was still stuck to the computer screen. The lawyer sighed, dreading having to explain to Harry that the girl hadn't turned up for work and therefore had no idea of their meeting. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and slackened his tie in an attempt to cool himself after rushing around in vain.

It was only when he really stopped and looked around the room, and then walked back out to in corridor, did Manners notice that the institute was eerily quite. And not just quiet. Empty.

Where was everyone?

Stalking back to the West wing, Manners had an uneasy feeling in his stomach, like something bad was happening that. The atmosphere just seemed off. He was just about to turn the bend to the entrance of the West wing when Manners heard someone yelling. It was faint, but he would know that voice anywhere.

Harry.

Ignoring the fact that his shoes and suit were designer and would most likely get scuffed and rumpled, Manners raced towards his client's screams, mindlessly following the noise like a pied piper. He ran down corridors he'd never even seen before, desperate to locate Harry as soon as possible. What was going on?

As he turned a sharp bend with the sign 'North wing' on the wall, Manners finally saw Harry struggling against the vice like grip of two guards, restraints bound his hands and feet. Manners was more shocked to see that there were semi-automatic guns pointed at the terrified boy.

"OI! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?" he yelled. When the company of guards failed to respond, Manners tried again, "What is the meaning of this? STOP! For fuck sake, STOP!"

Still no response.

Manners hadn't quite caught up to the group but as he drew nearer, he could see that they had stopped, and a guard was punching a code into a security heavy door. He hastened his pace, practically sprinting like a greyhound, anxious to close the distance between himself and Harry.

The group and Harry entered the room.

Just as he reached the door it shut tight, locking Manners out of the North wing.

Banging on the sturdy metal and glass sliding door, Manners tried to catch the attention of someone in the room, anyone that could explain this farce. The guards in the room ignored him and marched Harry over to a horrific looking hospital bed that was surrounded by scientific metal contraptions. However, the various doctors and nurses, who were dressed in strange rubber like clothing, were all staring at Manners, unsure what to do about the disturbance he was causing. Along with the commotion Manners was making, the room itself was hectic. It was full of strange looking instruments and numerous people looking busy, all the while Harry continued to bellow.

"Now, now, Mr Manners, there really is no need for that," Doctor Scott suddenly appeared, grinning through the glass, his voice full of psychotic excitement.

"What the fuck is this? Why is he getting strapped down?" Manners shouted practically pulling his hair out in frustration of not understanding what the hell was happening.

Doctor Scott held up an official looking document against the glass for the lawyer to read, "The court has ordered a few tests before the trial. As you can see this document allows me to put Mr Osborn through testing to see how strongly he reacts to stress. Especially since the stress of the trial may bring out the monster in him."

"Are you fucking serious? What kind of testing involves all this? Let me in, I want to be in there!"

"Oh, I can't do that Mr Manners, you are not a Ravencroft employee and thus not permitted to enter," Doctor Scott smirked, loving the power he held over the swanky lawyer, "We'll return him to his cell once I'm finished with him. Though, you are welcome to watch."

* * *

They had knocked him out shortly after entering the therapy room.

When Harry came to, he instinctively went to rub at the throbbing on the side of face. However he quickly discovered that his movements were greatly restricted by metal clamps and strapping that pinned down his arms and legs. He could feel plastic electrode pads covering his temples and now bare chest. Metallic clamps with wires were individually attached to all his fingers. Harry could barely move his head from side to side. Instead, he used his eyes to survey the situation; several strange people with lab coats and peculiar clothing were standing over him. He only recognised one of them.

"Ahhh. Good to see you are awake Mr Osborn," Doctor Scott spoke gleefully, "You may recognise the room you're in, no? We've altered the harness that held you friend Electro – now it holds you."

The doctor moved towards a panel of computers and typed in a few codes. All of a sudden the room came to life, machines whirring, and a powerful sense of tangible energy cloaking Harry where he lay.

Scott rolled up his lab coat sleeves, rubbing his gloved hands together, eager to begin, "Now, let's get the show started!" He leant down towards Harry and whispered quietly so that only they could hear, "Do be sure to let me know when it hurts."

"ARRRGGGGHHHHH!" Harry yelled.

He could feel sharp electric pain trickling through his veins, making them pulse wildly, jutting out from his skin that was rapidly turning green. The nails on his fingers dug down into his palms drawing blood. But Harry could barely feel it. His whole body began to convulse with the electrical power surging under his skin, struggling involuntarily against his bindings, flesh infected with pure agonizing discomfort.

Harry forced himself to hold on to his sanity with every fiber of his being, whilst fighting to breathe, live, exist; he refused to let them win.

"ARRGGGHHHHAYYYLLLEEEYYY!"

* * *

It was a sunny day though a gentle wind made the air bitingly cold, which was why Hayley was wearing her favourite Metallica jumper, hugging it to her tiny frame as she walked slowly down the sidewalk. She'd decided to take the day off to do some much-needed chores around the home and have a good rest. Surprisingly, Doctor Scott and Nurse Cadence had agreed without any insistence on her part. Hayley had a lot more free time now the Harry was no longer her patient, meaning that her workload had lessened in terms of paper work and session preparation. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a day off - it had been a long time coming.

For that reason, Hayley decided to visit her preferred grocery store, which was further away from her home than the one where she did her usual weekly shop. Whole Foods Market produce was a lot more expensive than her cheap Pot Noodles, but since Harry had paid her rent, she had a little bit extra money to buy some real food for a change. She was dying to purchase some Wheat Free products – wheat didn't really agree with her.

Hayley entered the store, her mood improving when she was the beautifully presented aisles of yummy nutritious food. She picked up a small basket and began to make her way round the store. Since she didn't have anything specific to buy, Hayley took her time, walking up and down each aisle slowly, looking at any product whose packaging caught her eye. It was only when she was inspecting cans of healthy soup, did Hayley notice there was a tall lanky man standing too close beside her. Turning to tell the stranger to buzz off, Hayley's glare changed to a surprised smile at seeing that the man was in fact Peter Parker.

"Peter!"

"Hey, hey Hayley. How's it hanging? Any, eh, exciting soups?" Peter chuckled, grabbing a can of vegetable soup and throwing it from hand-to-hand absentmindedly.

Hayley smiled warmly and made a grab for the flying can, dumping it into her basket, "Thought I deserved a change from Pot Noodles."

"So how you been?" Peter asked uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck, "You still look, um, you know, ill, ill-ish,"

"Hence the soup Parker," Hayley said shortly – as much as it was nice that someone cared, she really didn't want to talk about her health. "How are you feeling about Thursday?"

"Thurs…Thursday? What's, what's happening Thursday?"

Hayley blinked up at the tall boy shocked that he didn't seem to know. Of all the days to forget!

"The trial. Thursday. Harry's trial?"

Peter shuffled his feet and looked away from Hayley. Of course he hadn't forgot, he just didn't want to think about it.

"Hey, Peter, it's ok." Hayley stepped forward and gave him a quick awkward hug, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist, trying to reassure her friend, "It's gona be hard but we have to be there. For Gwen."

"Are you sure you won't be there for Harry?" he asked sharply, moving out of the redhead's weak hug.

"Well, yes, I will be there for Harry," Hayley said slowly, not really understanding the attitude behind Peter's question, "I will be giving evidence and my professional opinion on his progress and state of mind."

"And, er, what is your professional opinion on the man who took away Gwen?"

"That's not any of your business… hang on, my phone's ringing," Hayley said, frowning slightly as she pulled her phone from her jumper pocket; it was Manners. "Hello?"

"Where the fuck are you? No, don't tell me, I don't care! Get down to Ravencroft, NOW!" Manners yelled down the cell phone. Hayley was astounded that she could hear the man so clearly when he was obviously calling from inside the institute - cell service was terrible in the depths of Ravencroft.

"Wait, Manners, slow down. I don't under – "

"Harry needs you!" There was a pause. "God fucking damn it!"

"What's happened?" she asked desperately, Peter putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder whilst he leaned in, straining to listen.

"Fucking court documents that's what. Scott's got him strapped to a bed and their fucking shocking him! Electric fucking therapy!

"W…what?"

"I can't get in to stop them! Harry's gone! He's turned green! For Christ sake, this is sabotage!" Manners roared desperately, his attempts to break down the door could be heard echoing down the receiver, "No one will let me in! I don't have a fucking key card!

"Is Cheryl not in? You could use her key – "

"HAYLEY! Can you not hear this?"

Hayley heard Manners bang his phone against a glass window, Harry's pain induced screams clear as bell ringing in her eyes, tormenting images rushing through her mind. Even Peter's head jerked back at the ferocity of the strange noises emanating from Hayley's cell phone.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, her doe eyes wide with fear and glassy with tears. "I'll be right there Manners. I'm coming, tell him I'm coming," Hayley hollered, quickly hanging up and stuffing her phone into her handbag. She dropped her groceries, their purchase no longer important, soup cans rolling over the floor.

Peter and the surrounding shoppers watched her slowly backing towards the entrance, a look of absolute terror etched on her pale face. Walking forward and following her path, Peter reached out to grab her hand.

"He needs me, Peter! He needs me!" Hayley explained, ripping her arm from his grasp before racing out the store, her feet pounding hard against the sidewalk as she ran like she'd never run before.

Pulling out her pass, Hayley sprinted to the nearest Subway station, the wind whistling around her. Today was not the day to be further away from Ravencroft than usual! Her erratic movements caused her hair to become loose, the tight bun losing its hold, her locks escaping back into their usual ponytail style.

"I'm coming Harry," Hayley breathed to herself, "I won't loose you too."

* * *

Manners looked at the cell phone in his hand resisting the urge to chuck it at the nearest wall. He began to pace up and down the short hallway, flinching every time a new scream was expelled from Harry's lips; the door may have been made of bulletproof glass but he could hear every painful cry. Rubbing at his temples with stress filled fingers, Manners tried to reason with himself that as long as Harry continued to yell, then it meant he was holding on. It meant that he hadn't passed out. It meant that Hayley might find them in time to stop this madness. Not that she would be able to do anything other than get him into the room.

"ARGH…AR…AAARRRGGGHHHHH!"

He heard steady footsteps approaching. They didn't sound like the delicate heels of a woman but Manners need to hold on to something and that was hope.

A strange man briskly approached the lawyer.

"Our boy isn't looking too good," commented the stranger peeking through the window at the torture going on in the other room.

"Look, I know I asked you to come today, but there's been a change of fucking plans here," Manners said exasperatedly "I'm sorry I've wasted your time. I'll call you later when I've sorted out this fucking mess!"

"AR…AAARRRGGGHHHHH!"

"Jesus Christ Hayley were the fuck are?" Manners was beside himself with worry for Harry's wellbeing, imagining the worst as he watched in horror as the boy started to no longer look like himself.

He was a monster.

Lost in his anxiety, the lawyer failed to notice that the stranger had vanished.

* * *

"_You are alone," _the Goblin whispered,_ "I will always be waiting. I will always be longing for you to begin spiralling downward. You are the shadow. I am the dark. I embrace all of you. Every dark thought you've ever had. Every bad thing you have ever done. That was I. I am you when you cannot fight."_

"AR…AAARRRGGGHHHHH!"

"_You were never good enough Harry. Just not good enough. You can't even hold on to a friend. Even Peter betrayed you. You are not worthy of being someone's friend. You are not worthy of caring for or understanding people. You are a terrible person. Such a worthless disgusting person. That's why everyone hates you. That's why they stay away from you. That's why you loose everyone. Why you have no one. You do not deserve love. The one thing you crave, you cannot have. Who would love you anyway?" _

"ARGH…AR…AAARRRGGGHHHHH!"

"_One more deep breath. One more. One more before you are lost. Before your soul deserts you. Before your soul belongs to me. Let your body accept me. Let me take over, you know you want to. Give in, Harry. Let me help you. Let me be you."_

"ARRRGGGGHHHHH!"

"_She left us, Harry. Ginge left us…"_

"ARRGGGHHHHAYYYLLLEEEYYY!"

"_She's gone…"_

"HARRY!"

* * *

Manners turned sharply, barely believing his ears.

"HARRY!" Hayley screamed again, urgently racing towards the North wing, "HARRY? Manners? Where are you?"

The lawyer ran the short distance down the corridor to meet the redhead, "Give me the key card, give it to me, NOW!"

Hayley quickly pushed the swipe card into Manners outstretched hand as they both hurried towards the locked door. Manners fumbled with the locking mechanism, his hands trembling due to the sudden adrenaline of being able to aid Harry.

"Wait," Hayley said quietly.

Manners looked at her like she'd lost her mind, "WAIT! What do you mean, wait?"

She pointed at the array of medical staff and guards behind the door. "Look Manners," she said shakily, "They've finished. They're setting him free."

In their panic, both Hayley and Manners had failed to notice that Harry's screams no longer echoed around them. The blood pounding in their ears had deafened them to the sudden silence.

Both watched, holding their breath, as Harry was taken out of the metal clamps and torturous restraints. The doctors removed the electrodes that covered his body, roughly pulling on his regulation white t-shirt and hauling up the orange jumpsuit to cover his shoulders. Colin and Ernie dragged his limp and unconscious body onto a wheelchair that Nurse Cadence had swiftly brought forward. The army of guards quickly surrounded the nurse, who began pushing Harry and the wheelchair towards the door, which Hayley and Manners were still glued to.

"Come on Hayley," Manners said suddenly breaking the painful silence, "We'll go to his cell and meet him there."

"But –"

Grabbing Hayley's arm gently the lawyer started walking her in the opposite direction of Harry, "He'll need us when he wakes up. We need to be waiting for him."

* * *

Five minutes.

Hayley fidgeted on her chair in Harry's cell. Manners stood leaning against the cold stone wall, watching for movement outside through the door window. The room was no longer in disarray as Hayley had cleaned it shortly after they arrived after running ahead of the guards and Nurse Cadence.

Eight minutes.

Her breathing quickened and her voice started to tremble. "I…I…I don't think he's –"

"He's coming," Manners snapped, "Be patient."

Twelve minutes.

Shadows caused from outside movement made Manners straighten off the wall and fling open the cell door expectantly. Hayley jumped at the abrupt action, her whole body on edge with worry. She watched as Cadence wheeled Harry in, saying something stupid like "See. No harm done."

Then the nurse left, closing the door, confining the three of them in the room. The sound of the guards and doctors leaving the area was still audible even from inside the cell. Manners and Hayley stared at the unconscious man in the wheelchair, unsure how to proceed.

Harry's wakening moans sprung the frozen pair into instant action.

"Get him on the bed, quickly," Hayley ordered, her medical training kicking in.

She watched Manners lift Harry's body from the chair and carefully laid him on the bed. Hayley filled a plastic cup that sat by the cell sink with water, before slowly sitting next to the crumpled body on the bed. As he came out of his unconscious state, she placed the cup near his dry cracked lips, helping him to drink.

"Where, where were you?" Harry whispered painfully between grateful gulps of water. He reached his hand up, slowly, touching Hayley's face tentatively, hardly believing that she was real. "You said, said you'd never leave me…" he questioned quietly, hardly aware of what he was really saying, "…I needed you."

Hayley could feel her heart breaking.

With tears in her sorrowful eyes, she placed a gentle palm softly against his cheek. Leaning forward, Hayley spoke earnestly in his ear, pleading for him to understand, "I'm so, so sorry Harry. I, will, _never,_ leave you, _ever _again. I… I lov…"

Getting too choked up to even form the words, Hayley moved her shaking face back above his, and carefully, kindly, pressed her lips against his.

* * *

They had fed Harry his medication and both watched in wonder as he slowly started to loose the green hue that had dominated his skin a few hours before. Hayley was confident in that moment that the pills had worked, that their properties had the ability to control his Goblin transformations. Whereas Manners was thoroughly convinced that the redhead had a remarkable effect on Harry. After she had kissed him, Hayley had been crying too much to notice that the Goblin features started to fade, long before any medication had been administered. Sure, the medication had helped control Harry's outbursts in the week that Hayley had been away from him. But Manners now knew that she was far more important to Harry, to his health, to his wellbeing, than any of them truly realised.

It was now late evening; Manners and Hayley had left after two hours, both reluctant to but confident that he wasn't about to be tortured again. Manners had even phoned the judge and complained about Doctor Scott's actions. No more 'stress therapy' would be administered to him for the duration of the trial.

Sitting calmly in a his chair, Harry looked up to the cracked mirror to see a man wearing a trench coat and a fedora enter his cell; the man's face was cast in shadow like always, his identity unknown bar his name; Gustav Fiers.

"Leave us," Fiers ordered, making Colin and another prison guard lock him inside with the young Osborn.

Colin looked like he was about to question the shadowy man but Manners quickly stepped forward and gave a stern nod to ok the proceedings.

Harry waited until the door was closed, sealing himself and Fiers away from any spying ears before conversing with the man. "You've made progress," he stated, knowing that Fiers rarely made public appearances unless it was necessary.

"I've identified several worthy candidates. Now that Spider-Man's gone, this city, well, it will never be the same," the man responded, his voice low and gravelly.

"Oh, I'm counting on that," Harry smiled, cocking his eyebrow while trying to glance over his shoulder at Fiers. Although he was usually no longer restrained in his meetings with Manners or Hayley, today's events saw security around his cell tightened, and that included his bindings and restraints being reinstated.

"Speaking of progress, you are looking better."

"It comes and goes," said Harry cynically, thinking how ironic that statement was. He looked at his reflection to see his eyes flash green, hearing the Goblin's manic laughter ringing in his head; oh the irony. "Tell me more."

"How many men did you have in mind?"

Shaking his head to rid himself of his inner monster, Harry tried to stay focused, "I wanna keep it small. Everything you need is already at OsCorp, Special Projects Division." He paused. "I do hope Menken is being compliant with our little venture."

Fiers watched Harry curiously, thinking it odd how he seemed ever so slightly obsessed with his reflection; it was like the boy was staring at a stranger. Moving forward slightly, Fiers continued, "He has been most helpful."

"Good, see that it stays that way, I won't have him fucking me over again," Harry muttered bitterly, not even trying to keep the anger from his voice. Changing the subject, he smiled a toothy grin, keen to know about the next stage of their plan, "Who's our first volunteer?"

"Aleksei Sytesevich. Currently serving a life sentence. He is…most eager to join us," informed Fiers.

"Ah yes, the man in Room 125. Good. Start with him."

"As you wish. I will be back next week to discuss further progress."

Harry nodded his approval.

"And Mr Osborn, good luck with the trial."

Watching in the mirror as the man in the shadows left his cell, Harry's jaw clenched, the strain of the upcoming trial starting to eat away at him. He had been relatively calm about it until now. Who knew how the results of today's torture would affect the court – would it put a spanner in the works? All his carefully calculated plans with Manners and Fiers could be undone. Harry refused to be confined to his cell any longer than necessary. Besides, when he was released, then the real fun could begin.

"_Time to play."_

* * *

"Order! This court is now in session. Today, Thursday December 15th, we are gathered in a court of law to decide the sentencing of one Mr Harold Theopolis Osborn, who is charged with one count of voluntary manslaughter, murder in the First-degree, and property negligence to the state of New York and city of Manhattan. How does the defendant plead?"

Harry sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair in the stocks, listening to the judge list off his crimes. His scanned the room, searching for a particular face, though noting how Manners had managed to keep the press out. When he couldn't immediately see a flash of red hair he began to feel angry inside. Clenching his fists behind the stand, Harry felt someone far more familiar staring at him.

On the back row sat Peter Parker.

"How does the defendant plead?" the judge asked again.

Looking directly at Peter, his gaze as cold as his icy blue eyes, Harry smirked, "Not guilty."

* * *

**I think I just died guys! This chapter has killed me! Loved writing it, but damn so much action to write down!**

**Poor Hayley. I think we got some good insight into her mind during the graveyard scene, though I do feel bad that she's going through hell right now. As much as I don't want Hayley to be a sad OC, from my own experiences, I feel that the strongest people often have endured hardships in their life. I've always thought that people who cry and show their emotions tend to be strong – it's hard to show your emotions in public because others may perceive you as weak. Don't know how you guys feel about that, whether you agree or not, but that's my reasoning for Hayley's character arc so far – she will get stronger though!**

**And…. AHHHHH! I just bought Amazing Spider-Man2 dvd early release on iTunes! Died and went to Harry heaven and fell in love all over again! It's so nice to finally have the film when I've been writing this fic from seeing it once at the cinema!**

**Anyways, I hope this chapter was epic for you and worth the wait! You guys are the best and your response to this story always leaves me amazed! I am metaphorically buying you all chocolate and grant you wonderful Harry filled dreams – you deserve it! LOVE XXX **

**P.S. Sorry I haven't replied to everyone's reviews yet, I will get on that ASAP!**


	17. Chapter 17

**I do not own Marvel, The Amazing Spider-Man 2, or any character affiliated with the franchise. There is a scene from the movie referenced in this chapter, it is merely needed to aid the plot and I do not make any profit for including it. **

**WARNING: This fic is rated M, not just for smut but also for adult situations, language, violence, and drug abuse. There is a scene depicting rape themes in this chapter– sorry if it offends.**

* * *

"But, I don't understand," she stated, thoroughly confused "does he not want…of course he doesn't want me there." Hearing a frustrated sigh on the other end, Hayley clutched tightly at her cell phone.

"Look, I'm going to be frank; Harry wants you at court, heck, he needs you there," growled Manners impatiently, his irritation crystal clear through the receiver. "However, he does not fully understand the implications of your presence. We want to win this case."

Hayley bit her lip knowing exactly what the lawyer was implying. "I said I'd never leave him, he'll feel abandoned," she begged quietly.

"Harry will need you more _after_ he is released. Only come when you are required to make a statement, otherwise, stay _away_."

"Ok."

"I know you mean well Miss Carmichael but it'll do more harm than good. Trust me, I'm a lawyer," said Manners curtly before abruptly hanging up, no doubt eager to get back to court.

Hayley put her cell back in her lab coat pocket and sighed heavily.

The early morning air was cool outside in the courtyard of Ravencroft institute. Having heard her phone ringing, Hayley had answered the call quickly, halting her from entering the work place. She had left Manners a voicemail late last night about whether or not to drop into court during her lunch break and after work. However, it was now obvious that it was a bad idea if she showed her face.

It was strange; Hayley had been treating Harry for five months and had become deeply involved in his affairs. Yet, she was still reluctant to admit to herself of the strong feelings she felt towards her patient. Hadn't she nearly utter the word 'love' when he was broken before her?

All her time and energy was spent focused on rehabilitating him, working hard to make him well. And why? So that he would ultimately be released from Ravencroft. Hayley hadn't, until now, really thought about what that truly meant; Harry would no longer be at the institute. He would be free and she would no longer treat him. She would not only loose a patient but loose the most stable, if complicated, relationship she'd ever had with another person other than Gwen.

Harry's release would change everything. And Hayley wasn't sure if she would like that change, because then she would be alone once more. For, without need of a nurse or psychiatrist, Hayley was nothing to Harry. Wasn't she?

* * *

The trial was a lengthy and boring affair, and if his freedom weren't on the line then Harry would probably not be paying close attention to the proceedings.

He was currently sitting in the Witness stand watching Manners and the District Attorney battle it out during their cross examination of him and the events of five months ago. Harry had kept faithful to the story concocted by Manners; he explained about the loss of his father and the weight he felt on his shoulder of being the only heir of a company as big as OsCorp. He even spoke about his downward spiral into depression at not being worthy of the role of CEO. And that he had felt compelled to fight against Electro if it meant saving the work his father had spent a lifetime building. The venom, an untested strength enhancer being developed for the army, all lies of course, felt like his only solution. Because how could a young man fight against a monster like Electro?

When he had spoken about knowing Gwen Stacy and his failure to secure her safety at the destroyed Power Plant, Harry had acted so well that he nearly willed himself to shed a tear. Looking up from behind his bangs after an award winning speech, Harry saw Peter leave the courtroom. It pleased him greatly to watch his old friend unable to jump in and correct the lies that he was spinning.

It was hilarious because Parker had to attend court to take pictures for The Daily Bugle. How the tables had turned, from taking pictures of himself swinging around New York to now photographing his enemy. The Goblin was laughing inside.

Harry had even used the Osborn charm to surreptitiously flirt with the women jurors, trying to convey that he was only a twenty-year-old boy and was deeply sorry for his alleged crimes. To his surprise it seemed to be working. Though he had an inclination that Manners had already paid off some of the jury.

Whilst he attended court, Harry was permitted to wear civilian clothing. Manners had bought him a new Armani suit and a paisley scarf to cover his neck – appearance was everything apparently. The scarf concealed a persistent wound from his Retroviral Hypoplasia that the medication had not seemed to remove. The Goblin was under control but alas his condition still remained.

Manners had managed to deliver on his promise at having the severity of Harry's initial charges dropped to the lesser of involuntary manslaughter and Second-degree murder. The charge of property damage was one that the lawyer knew would not change and had decided to remain ignorant to it since Harry had enough money to pay for repairs.

The lawyer had even snookered the District Attorney's circumstantial evidence by calling the coroner to the stand to have the man explain Miss Stacy's cause of death. The DA had neglected to reveal the discovery of webbing on Miss Stacy's body, that she had in fact experienced whiplash and a head injury, which had resulted from her body being pulled sharply just before she hit the ground. The coroner was adamant about his findings, not wanting his reputation tarnished and job security in question.

Manners had then questioned Harry again about the Spider-Man webbing, who confirmed that Gwen had been pulled off his glider and down into the clock tower by the use of webbing. Harry also explained that before he was knocked unconscious by Spider-Man, he saw Gwen falling and was unable to save her. Though he was unsure if the girl had already sustained her injuries and died after being snatched from his glider or from her final fall down the clock tower shaft.

"Thank you Mr Osborn, you may step down," ordered the Judge. When Harry had taken his seat, the old man grabbed his gavel, "I think a short recess is in order-"

"Judge Morris, if I may, I'd like to call another witness to the stand," interrupted Manners.

The Judge leaned forward over his bench with his eyebrows raised in disbelief, "Do you mean to tell me that you have _another_ witness to the murder of Gwen Stacy?"

"Of course."

"Then by all means, take the floor Mr Manners."

The lawyer sauntered over to the witness stand, which was now empty, and placed his hand on the wooden box before turning to address the courtroom. He could feel all eyes trained on him and he took great pleasure at seeing the District Attorney's leafing through their papers, trying to discover whom he could be referring to.

"Judge Morris, jurors, esteemed public; my client has been questioned and cross examined by the DA, whose evidence not only have I rebuffed and disputed, but clarified in revealing to you the true cause of death as documented in the coroner's report," Manners projected slowly, letting everyone drink in his words as he paused for effect. "There was one other who witnessed the murder of Gwendolyn Stacy, one who I deem fully responsible for her death, and should be held accountable for his crimes, not only against the Stacy family but in letting the blame lie with my client, Mr Osborn, an innocent and good Samaritan.

"I call to the stand non other than the masked vigilante himself; Spider-Man."

There was a pause, with the spectators and jury looking at each other questioningly, thoroughly expecting the hero to swing down from the ceiling.

"You see," continued Manners raising his voice to demand the room's attention once more, "the true crime here is allowing a citizen of New York to parade around in a costume and meddling in police affairs. No man is above the law, and that includes Spider-Man. Is he not a man? A man in a mask, a vigilante but still a citizen. His identity is unknown and that, ladies and gentleman, is why he is a menace! Will you allow for my client, Mr Osborn, to be wrongfully sentenced for a crime with evidence of Miss Stacy's demise pointing towards Spider-Man?

"By our laws, every criminal is guilty until proven innocent. So, Spider-Man, why don't you come to this courtroom and defend your _innocence_? Will you stand forward as a key eyewitness and give us your account of events, give us evidence to prove that you are indeed not the guilty party?"

There was a disbelieving silence.

Manners walked back towards his table where even Harry looked shocked.

"No? Well, I think you'll all agree that Spider-Man is not our so-called friendly neighbourhood hero if he refuses to give up his precious anonymity, to corrupt and falsify the jury's final decision for this case. I accuse Spider-Man of the murder of Miss Stacy, and if he does not appear in court to defend his actions then, well, I guess actions speak louder than words don't they?" the lawyer finished, sitting beside his client in triumph.

The courtroom descended into deafening chaos.

* * *

"Mr Osborn."

"Ahhh, Mr Fiers," said Harry looking over his shoulder, "We must stop meeting like this."

"I sat in on yesterday's court hearing –"

"Mmm? Yes, I noticed."

"You must be pleased with how it is going. Your lawyer is very impressive, a true master of his domain," Fiers commented quietly, remaining in the shadows by the door of Harry's cell at Ravencroft.

"The best of the best money can buy," Harry said cheerfully, waggling his head like he'd repeated that phrase way too many times in his youth – rich boys could always afford the best.

"I've been down to Special Projects, seen the best money can buy. Your father had a talent in delegating his money wisely too."

Harry made no comment so Fiers continued.

"The mechanised Rhinoceros suit appears suitable for Project Sinister – "

"Sinister?" Harry grinned manically at himself in the mirror, "I like that."

"- the machine guns and battle armour will appeal to the Russian, Sytesevich."

"No doubt he will cause much damage and destruction," Harry smirked, the Goblin gleefully jumping for joy inside at the impending chaos. "Tell me Fiers, how will Sytesevich use the suit when he is locked up a few cells away from me?"

He watched in the mirror as Fiers knocked on the glass and Colin reopened the mechanised door for him, seemingly leaving without offering an answer.

Fiers peered over his shoulder, "Don't worry Mr Osborn, I'll take care of the Russian," he whispered, just enough for Harry to hear. Turning back to the exit, Fiers nearly fell over, having bumped into a tiny figure with striking copper hair.

Hayley squeaked and eyed the shadowed man cautiously, suspicious vibes radiating off him. She stepped back and allowed him to leave the doorway, strolling quietly up the passageway. The weirdest thing about the stranger was that Hayley had been unable to see his face and thus couldn't get a read of his personality. Either way, she didn't trust him.

Walking into Room 136, Hayley asked with interest, "The Russian?"

"It's a drink doll, the White Russian. I need a stiff celebratory drink when I'm released," Harry said jauntily, turning in his chair and giving a mock toast whilst clutching an invisible glass.

"I guess I'll allow you one drink," she chastised fondly walking further into his room.

"You'll _allow_ me?"

Blushing terribly, Hayley started to stammer, "I mean, well, you know, with the drugs you're on, erm, alcohol really isn't wise. Besides, you're underage!"

"Yes… I am aren't I?" Harry mused rubbing his chin, remembering suddenly that the girl before him was only a year older, though she looked so much younger. "I only need one Russian… just one. Promise," he purred with a devilish grin.

* * *

Manners was sitting in a sparse yet official looking room within the courthouse, waiting. He was thoroughly exhausted after a five hours session of questioning, cross-examining and taking statements from the workers of Ravencroft, OsCorp employees, and Hayley.

He was proud of the young nurse who had shown Harry true loyalty on the stand. She had read out her medical assessment of Harry, explained her role in their sessions and mentioned how he had improved and flourished during his time at Ravencroft. The girl hadn't forgotten any of the key points Manners had briefed her own that morning, even uncovering psychiatric explanations for Harry's 'goblin-like' behaviour without revealing too much of his personal issues and affairs.

The three other psychiatrists that Manners had paid for also gave their medical opinion of Harry, certifying him as a sane and reformed individual.

Of course the DA had called Doctor Scott to the stand to give dangerous evidence against Miss Carmichael's intent in helping Mr Osborn. Manners hoped he had managed to objectify and use his powers of persuasion to squash the ridiculous claims of a sordid relationship between his client and the young nurse. Hayley herself had given a glowing and strong rebuff about the flaws behind the term 'Erotic Transference'. The other psychiatrists had also aided in supporting Hayley against the ridiculousness of the implied relationship.

Manners checked his Rolex impatiently before quickly smiling as Hayley knocked on the door and entered his makeshift office.

"Please sit down Miss Carmichael," said the lawyer, pointing to a comfy chair opposite him. He began shifting through papers on the desk in front of him.

"You look exhausted Manners," Hayley commented kindly.

"So do you," he retorted, noticing the dark shadows under her red and bloodshot eyes, "You did well in court, very well indeed, so don't cry over your performance."

"Was… was I ok?" she sniffed disbelievingly, "I didn't ruin the case did I? I tried to remember everything you told me to say, and I didn't look at Harry like you told me to. I tried to stay calm, really I did, but then after Doctor Scott said those thing, I just –"

Manners held up his hand to stop her, "Miss Carmichael. Hayley. You couldn't have done _any _better. No one in that room believed that pompous twat, he sounded like a raving lunatic to be honest." He grinned sympathetically at her worries, "Now, I asked you here not to talking about today, but because you have some papers to sign."

Hayley smiled back at the lawyer in response, thankful to not have her actions in court judged further, "Oh, right, ok."

The lawyer pointed to three pieces of paper already laid out in front of her on the desk; the documents were on top of each other, though layered so that all three signature strips were on display.

Picking up an expensive fountain pen, Hayley looked across the table questioningly, "What am I signing?" She had skim read the first page and had no idea what it meant due to all the legal jargon.

"It's just a declaration that the evidence you presented today was true and that the reports you provided from Ravencroft have not been falsified or altered."

"Ok."

Hayley began writing out her short cursive signature on the first and then the second paper, trusting Manners' explanation.

"You'd do anything to ensure his freedom, wouldn't you Hayley?" he asked pointedly, staring as he watched the girl sign the last document.

Hayley looked up from her final signature and passed the papers back to Manners before nodding in agreement.

"Good," said the lawyer, locking the papers inside his briefcase "Just making sure."

* * *

It was a week after Hayley had appeared in court and it would be another week until the final court hearing. Her experience in court had caused the atmosphere between herself and Doctor Scott to only worsen, with Hayley staying firmly in her wing and the Nurses station. She had poured all her energy into her work, hoping and praying that the doctor would not fire her.

Money was tight again; her funds were drying out and with another rent due in just less than two weeks, Hayley desperately needed extra cash. Late night shifts at Ravencroft paid double and Hayley was determined not to be behind on her rent again. Which is why she found herself still at work at 1am with a growling and empty stomach, having forgone breakfast, lunch and dinner.

She took a sip from her fifth black coffee, shuddering at the bitter taste. The caffeine was not really working and Hayley felt her eyes fluttering closed.

An earth-shattering explosion ripped through the building.

Hayley fell from her chair, cold coffee spilling all over her desk and clothing. She remained on the floor until another blast brought her to her senses as the ground trembled beneath her.

Cheryl and Becca suddenly appeared at the door looking panicked and frightened. They rushed to their own desks and grabbed their expensive purses before heading out to leave.

Reaching for Cheryl's arm, Hayley stopped her and asked urgently, "What's happening? What's going on?"

The blonde had tears in her eyes and was white as a sheet, "People…men…the army, I don't know!" she shrieked hysterically.

"We were in the West wing and then a bomb or something went off and there were guns like shooting people like dead, so we ran!" Becca babbled, trying to pull Cheryl away and out the exit.

"The West wing?"

"Yes Haley! Freaky men in suits were looking for someone or something. Who cares anyway, let's go!" explained Becca, before another tremendous boom rocked the walls around them, causing her and Cheryl to scream and flee the room.

Hayley stayed were she was, thoughts dashing through her mind. Strange men were looking for someone in the West wing…

"Oh my god, Harry!" she spoke aloud.

What if they were after him? Or, what if he tried to escape? What if this was an escape attempt? She had to stop him. Hayley had been truthful when saying to Manners that she was prepared to do anything to ensure Harry's freedom, and if that meant preventing him from ruining all their hard work in court by stopping a criminal act, then so be it.

Running as fast as she could, Hayley dodged falling debris as she raced through the labyrinthine corridors. Staff and inmates alike were bolting this way and that whilst guards were trying to control the chaotic situation. The air was laced with fear with everyone making his or her way to the nearest exit. But not Hayley. She was determined to find Harry.

There was a lot of smoke surrounding the West wing; dust and brick littered the ground, the strip lights flickered with uncertainty, and the deafening wail of the Ravencroft alert alarms hurt her ears. The once recognisable and familiar corridor was in a state of disarray. And although the alarms were ear-splitting loud, the wing was eerily quiet. All Hayley could really hear was her heart thumping in her chest and her unsteady breathing. Something was not right.

Where was everyone?

It looked like this wing was hit the worst and it appeared devoid of any human life, bar the timid redhead. Prisoners and guards were seemingly nowhere to be seen.

Hayley noticed that, like the other wings she had passed, all the cell door locks had been released. A corridor of open doors awaited her and Hayley had no idea if all the prisoners had vacated the area already. She only hoped that she could catch Harry before he escaped.

In the distance, the entrance to Room 136 had its door swung wide open like the others. Hayley was relieved to see that other than Harry's cell door, the end of the corridor was virtually untouched. The passage was a straight line; all she had to do was run.

"Please be there please be there," Hayley prayed under her breath.

She darted down the passageway, jumping over rubble and weaving around the open doors. Cell 125 was blown open, a gaping hole where the wall and door had previously been. In shock, she stopped to inspect the damage, completely in awe of the violent destruction – there was nothing recognisable left.

"They must have wanted Aleksei Sytesevich," Hayley whispered – she had no idea who 'they' was but _someone_ had planned this.

A small scraping sound of approaching footsteps on dirt caused Hayley to turn sharply. Behind the way she had just came was a shadowy figure parting the smoky dust like a divine being.

"H…Harry?" called out Hayley nervously, "Is that you?"

The mysterious man walked forward into the light, his nail bitten hands jittering frustratingly by his sides.

"No. But I could be," smirked Kinsey, rolling is tongue slowly across his top lip in an overly suggestive manner. His breathing was erratic and loud like he'd just run a marathon. But Kinsey didn't look exhausted. If anything, he looked alarmingly alive, a predatory glare in his wide perverted eyes.

Suddenly afraid, Hayley gulped, "Now, Kinsey, I think maybe you should go, go wait in your cell for –"

"Oh but where's the fun in that?" the criminal pouted with pretend sadness cloaking his features.

"I'm going to count to three and I want you to be back in you cell," Hayley said clearing the hesitance from her voice. "One…"

Kinsey exaggerated his pout.

"Two…" she continued, standing her ground.

Still, no movement.

Hayley looked the man right in the eye, "Th-"

"THREE!" Kinsey yelled his voice echoing in the dim hallway.

He didn't move. She didn't move.

Taking a step forward, Kinsey raised his arms in the air expectantly, "Ready or not, here, I, come!"

* * *

It had been quiet since the initial thunderous boom. The violent and unnatural sound informed Harry that his and Fiers' plan had blasted into motion.

When the high-tech door to his cell opened of its own accord, Harry had been rather surprised. Fiers and Manners had decided to disclose only the bare minimum of information regarding the extraction of the Russian criminal, Sytesevich. That way, Harry could react naturally if the techs they'd employed for this mission failed to neutralise the security cameras – the less Harry knew about the assault the better. Nothing could be traced back to Osborn or OsCorp if the future of Project Sinister was ultimately to succeed. Harry's freedom had to be done by the book, secured through the American justice system.

So when the option of freedom by other means was presented, Harry just laughed manically and sat back on his bed.

That was some thirty minutes ago and all he could hear was that irritating Ravencroft alarm. He felt like his ears were bleeding it was so piercing.

"_I bet_ _its pure chaos out there! Let's go have a look, have some fun, ay Harry?" _the Goblin suggested, thoroughly sick of their inactivity over the past months.

"Fun comes later. We'll let Fiers' team handle whatever's out there," Harry said dismissively, deciding it was time for a nap.

Then he heard a familiar scream.

* * *

She was cornered in Room 130.

After dashing away from the chilling criminal, Hayley had been caught easily; her measly stick like limbs no match for an aggressive well-built madman.

"I've been waiting a long, long, long, _long,_ time for this MJ," Kinsey growled, yanking the girl towards him violently, trying to force a kiss upon her lips.

Hayley shrieked in terror before slapping at her attacker, clipping him fully across the face.

"You stupid BITCH!"

Kinsey smacked her and threw Hayley to the ground with such force that white-hot pain bloomed on her head. He snarled and shoved the girl further onto the ground as he put one knee upon her back to prevent her from moving.

"HARRY!"

* * *

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked, sitting bolt upright. A chill had crept into his skin when he heard the initial scream and the feeling only intensified upon hearing his name.

"_You're seriously loosing it! Hearing things again? This insane act is pissing me-"_

"HARRY!"

"_Is that Ginge?"_ the Goblin asked incredulously, a hint of panic in his gruff voice.

"HAR-"

The disembodied scream was cut short.

Deciding to investigate, Harry left the safety of his cell, knowing deep down that something was wrong. He carefully walked up the corridor, looking in each empty cell as he went. With no more noise other than the blasted screeching alarm, Harry almost turned back around to return to his room. Almost.

A heart-wrenching sob echoed two cells away, Room 130, and Harry quickened his pace.

The scene he walked in on ignited a fiery green anger deep inside.

Hayley was lying face down on the concrete, her tears staining the ground as she let out inaudible sobs through shallow shaky breaths. A disgusting meaty hand held her face firm against the dirty floor. Her once bright eyes were now glassy, hollow and empty; she looked straight through Harry as if he were invisible.

That scummy brute, Kinsey, was leaning his body over the redhead, sniffing at her dishevelled hair whilst scrambling franticly with the buttons and fly of his prison jumpsuit.

Her face had had lost its brightness; Hayley looked defeated and broken. She was barely moving, her earlier attempts of freedom evident on her face. Along with the tears, an ugly red hand shaped mark glowed on her cheek, fresh blood dripping down her forehead from a cut concealed by her hair. She may have seemed willing or compliant in her stillness but Harry knew the girl was screaming inside. Hayley's knuckles had turned bone white in silent resistance as her nails dug into the stone beneath her.

At least Harry found a small sense of relief to see that his nurse was still fully clothed.

Kinsey was too busy focusing on undoing his fly to even notice Harry's appearance until he felt a smashing blow to his face. The criminal stumbled back, falling to the floor, away from Hayley.

"What the fu-"

Harry kicked the bumbling idiot in the face, delighted to see blood spurt and shattered teeth decorate the grey cell. As Kinsey clutched at his messed up jaw, Harry decided to kick the bastard where he knew it would hurt. The criminal yelped and reached down to his pained groin.

"_NEVER. TOUCH. WHAT. IS. MINE_!" the Goblin snarled, whilst connecting his foot with any part of the creep's body between in each word to emphasise their importance.

Pure rage filled Harry's mind and he began to feel a sick amount of pleasure at beating the grubby criminal to a pulp. He kept kicking and kicking and kicking, until he heard a rib bone snap. Harry ignored the cries coming from his victim. The bastard had this coming.

The Goblin decided to end this.

Hauling Kinsey up by the shoulder, Harry bashed him against the nearest wall, holding up the exhausted and bloodied man. Harry kneed him in the balls again before grabbing his bloody face and smacking the man's head backwards. A sickening crack resonated above the heavy breathing.

"Harry?" came a soft broken voice.

Still holding the semi-conscious inmate, Harry turned to see his girl standing on unsteady feet, trembling, holding onto the wall for support.

"Go to my cell and wait for me there," Harry said firmly.

Hayley nodded and shuffled towards the exit, its door still wide open.

Before leaving the room, she stopped by her saviour and placed an uncertain hand on his shoulder. Her eyes were blank and her was voice cold as she whispered, "Make it hurt."

Grinning widely at having the redhead's permission, the Goblin responded, "_It will Ginge, have no doubt about that."_

His green eyes followed Hayley as she exited the cell, turning right, towards the safety of his room. The Goblin twisted back to focus on his victim, smashing the bastard's head against brick until there was nothing left but mush.

* * *

She was resting on his bed, curled into a protective ball, staring blankly at the wall opposite trying desperately not to blink. If she closed her eyes then his disgusting face would be bearing down on her. Maybe, just maybe, if Hayley counted the bricks opposite then her lids would stay open. There was no way for her to kid herself that this was all a dream. It was as real as the blood drying on her forehead. It was as real as the pain in her throat from screaming. It was all real.

But Harry was also real and he was standing before her now, strong and stoic. His hair was matted with a mixture of blood and sweat which made him look dangerous and sinister. Hayley knew he was anything but; in this instant he was her protector, he was her everything.

Without taking her eyes off the bricks she was fixatedly counting, Hayley tentatively reached out her quivering hand towards Harry's blood-stained one. She laced her fingers between his, trying hard to ignore the clotted stickiness that coated them. Her breathing began to ease and her eyes closed for a split second, comforted by his presence. She wasn't alone in this; he was here for her.

"Is he dead?" she asked blankly.

"_He can never hurt you again_," the Goblin murmured softly.

"Good."

"_Are you hurt_?"

She squeezed his hand in response.

Gently, Harry used his free hand to coax the girl from being curled into sitting up right on his bed. He checked the red mark on her cheek that was slowly fading. His fingertips softly brushed aside her auburn hair to inspect the shallow gash. The bleeding had stopped and it thankfully wouldn't need stitches. Harry wished he could take away the pain he couldn't see, fix the invisible wounds that no doubt had already infected her mind.

The hand that held hers never let go.

When he tenderly brushed away the tears from her lashes, Hayley flinched, suddenly scared to be close to a man.

"Hush doll, it's me," Harry whispered soothingly.

"He…he tried to…I tried, but…he was just so…I didn't know what to do…" Hayley babbled, words incoherent from the fresh tears that threatened to fall.

"You did the right thing Hayley."

"I did?"

"You called for me, didn't you? Because you knew I would protect you."

Hayley nodded. She felt slightly ashamed to have screamed his name aloud, knowing that it probably revealed her feels for him on a psychological level. But there was no one else. There was only Harry.

"I will always protect what's mine. My hope deserves to stay pure," Harry said kindly with a genuine smile, "and golden." He plucked a soft strand of her hair between his fingers and stroked it fondly; "You should go, before anyone catches you in here with me."

Fear clouded her eyes again, "I don't think I can, I'm scared, I –"

"I want you to go to a supply closet and get me a clean jumpsuit – destroy my dirty one. Then you will go to a bathroom, clean you face and head, and go find your way to safety. No one will need to know what happened tonight - it will be our little secret. Right?"

Another silent nod.

"_That's my girl, hmmm?"_ murmured the Goblin softly, brushing his thumb over her plump bottom lip possessively. "Now go."

Standing unsteadily, Hayley slowly walked away from Harry, still holding his hand. She was fearful to break contact until the last possible second.

Then, she did as she was told, following Harry's instructions to the letter.

* * *

The trial had been on a two-week hold since the break out of Aleksei Sytesevich and Ravencroft's security breech. Various rumours had surfaced, not only in the institute but also outside its tall walls, among the citizens of New York. The Daily Bugle reported non-stop about the unknown dangers hidden deep inside the institute. Not only had Sytesevich escaped but also ten other criminals during the daring and explosive raid. The death of the redhead obsessed rapist, Kinsey, had made the papers, though it became quickly buried beneath heated debates and criminal propaganda.

The media dubbed the explosive event as 'The Ravencroft Raid.'

The criminal act had even knocked the Osborn trial off The Daily Bugle's front page. With the police commissioner refusing to release the names of the newly freed criminals, the media was feeding its readers a public service by reporting everything they knew. Every lead, every speculation, every fear was written in black and white.

Many articles focused on the absence of Spider-Man – where was New York's masked hero? Although petty crime and street attacks had increased since the vigilante's disappearance, the raid was the biggest criminal event to happen since Electro and the Goblin appeared five months ago. News reporters and the public were divided on their love for Spider-Man. Their hero had not returned.

Consequently, on the same night as 'The Ravencroft Raid', OsCorp had been broken into as well. Numerous weapons and specialist military grade equipment had been stolen, though none of this information was released to the public. Only the mayor, police commissioner and the army had been notified – OsCorp was good at keeping their business secret. This subsequent break in meant that the newspapers did not even speculate whether or not the Goblin, Harry Osborn, may have been involved with either criminal act. Why would a billionaire break into their own company? Besides, it was reported that the Osborn boy hadn't even attempted to escape from Ravencroft that night.

Ignoring the many report controversies, the Ravencroft institute was trying to carry on as normal; armed security and dog patrols were doubled, no prisoner was allowed to go anywhere without at least two guards present, the US army had supplied a specialist task force team, and maximum security inmates were confined to their rooms, their privileges stripped for safety reasons. The only high security prisoner who retained their canteen meal freedom was Harry Osborn. His lack of an escape attempt during the breakout had not gone unnoticed.

Manners had reported this good behaviour to the court judge who had allowed Harry to keep his privileges. The lawyer was extremely happy that these criminal events would work in their favour at court.

* * *

Hayley was on canteen duty again.

She was happy to be in a large crowd and not alone patrolling dark corridors with strange shadows that made her think that Kinsey was lurking around every corner. The redhead was constantly on edge and had been since that night. Even her medication would not allow Hayley to sleep undisturbed by nightmares. Being alone in her tiny apartment no longer felt safe and she had been spending more time at Ravencroft, regardless of whether she was paid for working extra shifts or not. She hadn't even ventured to see Harry, because going down that corridor meant walking past Kinsey's old cell. The only time Hayley dared to seek out Harry was at meal times, when she would sneak sideways glances at him. He never looked at her, not even once. This made her sad but it was a comfort just to have him close by, to know that he was there.

It was well into the lunchtime shift at Ravencroft and Hayley was leaning against a wall, staring into space.

"…live on Park Avenue and 56th Street where it is complete chaos.… sort of mechanized armored suit is wreaking havoc on Midtown…"

The lively lunchroom became deathly silent.

No one moved, other than to turn and direct their full attention to the forty-inch TV screen that usually provided background noise throughout the day. A prisoner nearest the remote turned up the volume.

On the screen was a bleak picture of Park Avenue, half destroyed, with a strange metallic silver _thing_ dominating the street. A small opening appeared in the metal monstrosity, revealing the grinning dirty mug of former prisoner and escapee Aleksei Sytesevich.

"I am the RHINO!" boomed the television speakers, broadcasting the recognizable voice with its strange Russian lilt. Large titanium machine gun arms raised in triumph before bullets tore into the surrounding cop cars.

A murmur spread through the prisoners. Some voiced quiet cheers, rejoicing to see one of their own free to cause untold damage. It made Hayley quickly feel sick to be surrounded by such barbaric people. It was easy to forget that her patients' were hardened criminals when they complied with Ravencroft's rules. She had no doubt that where any one of them back on the streets then they'd be shooting at the cops too.

The bullets made the televised vehicles look like Swiss cheese, their attack causing explosions, and Hayley covered her ears as the loud noise caused flashes of the raid and Kinsey to appear before her eyes.

She searched for Harry's face in the room, hoping that his familiar confident demeanor would calm her. The Osborn boy was sat slanted away from the screen with an air of great disinterest. He was even casually playing with a fork, twisting it between his fingers like a drummer performing a trick with their drumstick. To anyone else, Harry seemed greatly bored in comparison to the other inmates. However, Hayley wasn't so fooled. She noticed his eyes flicking towards the screen whenever a fresh explosion echoed, one of his eyebrows raised in interest rather than unconcerned boredom.

"Look New York, Spider-Man is back," mocked the metal Rhinoceros.

At the Russian's statement, Harry turned sharply, the vein on his eyebrow pulsing wildly as his hand instantly clenched around his fork. Upon seeing a small child in a costume run forward into the carnage, he smiled and rolled his eyes before turning back to mastering fork twirling. A small chuckle released from his upturned lips and his body visibly relaxed.

"…Aleksei scare you little boy?" the speakers boomed.

Tears tumbled down Hayley's cheeks – she did not want to watch a child die. That dear boy was so brave! How old was he? He looked younger than ten. Such courage. Something she'd never had…

He was tiny on the TV screen, an innocent, looking almost alien standing amongst destroyed cars and shattered glass. Every one was hiding, the cops unsteady with their authority and handguns, knowing that they were no match for the colossal metal beast.

New York needed Spider-Man to save them. And here was a child in their hero's mask; a symbol of unwavering hope.

Everyone waited on baited breath, uncertain how the scene would unfold.

Cheers unexpectedly erupted from the televised crowd as a lithe figure in red and blue spandex, the real Spider-Man, swung down and took his place at the brave boy's side. Chants of "Spidey, Spidey," were joyous and full of renewed faith as New York's hero had finally returned after five long months of absence.

Even some of the prisoners looked a little reassured. Though many were put in Ravencroft by Spider-Man, there was a strict honor among criminals when it came to harming children. Many of the convicts who were child murderers and molesters had to be kept separate from the others for their own safety.

"You fight me? You fight me now?" exclaimed the Rhino.

Picking up a megaphone, Spider-Man addressed the criminal, "On behalf of the fine people of New York and real rhinos everywhere, I ask you to put your mechanized paws in the air."

Hayley let out a small audible cry of relief; she had never been so happy to see another human being in her life. Except for when Harry had saved her... She shook those thoughts quickly from her mind, clocking eyes with Colin across the room who grinned back at her in response to Spider-Man's return. The guard's eye was black from the fights that had occurred when Sytesevich had escaped.

"Never! I crush you! I kill you! I destroy you!" Sytesevich bellowed in response.

The canteen was still relatively quiet as everyone watched the Rhino racing towards Spider-Man, firing missiles and bullets as the two engaged in a raging battle. With attention still on the TV, only Hayley noticed when the small clang of a fork hitting the ground provided a change in sound compared to the booming speakers. The fork's owner stalked angrily towards the double door exit, demanding to be taken back to his cell.

With Harry no longer in the room, Hayley felt vulnerable again. Her mind kept flashing back to rough grubby arms grabbing around her waist, a filthy hand suffocating her, and then the all-consuming darkness.

Trying to stay calm and control herself from hyperventilating, Hayley decided to go to the bathroom and splash cool water on her face.

She passed a group of shady prisoners on her way out who were in deep conversation.

"Ya reckon it was the mafia that broke 'im out?" whispered a skinhead with missing front teeth.

The man beside him, who had had part of his ear bitten off in a prisoner fight during the raid, replied "Russian mafia?"

"Yeah, 'cause Sytesevich is Russian in' 'e?" probed the skinhead.

"Mafia's good but not _that _good! Ya see that suit? Not their style," concurred the one-eared prisoner.

"Fuck me, I need one of those!" murmured a scrawny newbie in awe.

"God damn that lucky Russian bastard..."

Hayley stopped dead in her tracks, a seed of doubt blooming inside her. She felt uneasy, sick deep down in her stomach with clammy chills running through her body. Her mind went back to the conversation she'd had with Harry previously;

"_I only need one Russian… just one. Promise."_

The sinking sensation inside her only began to worsen. Was this purely coincidence or was Harry's choice of alcohol beverage a smooth lie about the subsequent breakout of Aleksei Sytesevich? She hadn't meant to over hear what he and the stranger were talking about. What if they had planned the break in?

The more she dared to connect the two events, the more Hayley became certain that something was amiss. The Rhino's armored suit looked like something only OsCorp could build – it held similarities to the technology used for Harry's Goblin suit.

Hayley really didn't like where this train of thought was leading her, but she knew that only one person held the answers and she was going to demand them.

Now.

* * *

"Why would I have anything to do with the raid the other night?" Harry responded as Hayley stood opposite him in his cell, her hands on her hips and a suspicious accusing look in her eyes.

"I've been either locked in this cell or shackled in court. How could I possibly have been the one to orchestrate all this? Why would I steal from my own company or risk being linked to an out of control criminal like Sytesevich? It's really not my style doll. I've been a good boy. I didn't even try to break free last week when I had every reason to escape. No. I stayed in my cell and only left because I heard your screams. Imagine what would have happened had I not been there, hmm?"

Hayley looked away, trying not thinking about what might have happened.

"The fact that you would even suggest any of this truly troubles me Hayley," said Harry angrily, walking towards the girl, needing to stop her doubt in him.

"_Besides,_ _who would believe you_?" sneered the Goblin grabbing her chin and squeezing it menacingly between his fingers so that she could only stare into his green tinged eyes.

"That little boy could have been killed," Hayley countered "his blood would be on _your _hands. If you feel nothing for your actions then you truly are a monster!"

With a guttural snarl the Goblin shoved the nurse with his hand that gripped her chin, causing Hayley to fall backwards onto her bum. Before she could even cry out in pain, Harry reached forward and hauled her up so that her back was firmly placed against his chest.

"A monster? A monster! Kinsey was the monster!" Harry spat, all the while keeping Hayley's struggles under control with his inhuman strength. "To think he touched what is rightfully mine. Are you not grateful? Did you want me to let that monster rape you?"

"You know I didn't want that. Please, Harry, let me go!"

"_If I were a monster, I would have stood and watched," _the Goblin whispered.

Hayley let out a strangled cry, memories of her almost rape flooding back into her mind.

"Hush," Harry comforted, stroking the crown of her red head as her sobs began to die down. "You're emotional and I'm sure you didn't mean to call me a monster, did you?"

Harry's hand splayed out over her head, forcing Hayley to shake it in silent answer.

"Anyway, only a real monster would kill their own parents," he whispered.

Hayley froze.

Leaning even closer, if that were possible, Harry hissed into her ear, "I know your deepest, darkest, _fiery _secret Hayley."

Hayley began to visibly shake but remained frozen in place. How did he know?

Taking the opportunity, Harry pulled away from her so that he could circle round her quivering form. He was delighted when she stayed in place, smirking widely because the girl was too emotionally unhinged to notice that he had removed her baggy white lab coat. The piece of clothing now lay in a heap on the floor behind her. Harry noticed how tiny she was in a long sleeved black jersey top that clung to her scrawny body.

"How does a girl as young as ten survive the fire that killed her parents? Especially by hiding in a closet. Surely anyone of that age would know to leave the house in those circumstances?" Harry commented aloud whilst circling the scared redhead, "Why hide in the closet, unless you wanted to die? A child with a death wish must have done something _truly _horrific."

"How…?" Hayley spluttered in disbelief. How did he know about the fire? Had it finally happened? Had someone discovered her dark secret?

"Manners. Besides, I'm an Osborn; I can get whatever information I want," Harry said smugly. "The cops may not have included it in their report but I have no doubt of your secret. I know _all _about you."

"You know _nothing _about me, Osborn," Hayley seethed angrily, rage igniting behind her eyes. She met Harry's gaze steadily, holding up her chin defiantly, standing her ground.

Then Harry did something completely unexpected.

His face visibly softened. He flipped his boyish bangs out of his now blue eyes and walked slowly towards her. Just as Harry began to invade her personal space, he held out his arms, encasing Hayley in a tight embrace.

With her arms pinned to her sides, Hayley was unsure how to react; the angry part of her was screaming to be away from him. However, the psychiatrist reasoned that this show of normal emotion and affection was incredible rare for Harry. So she decided to let go of the tension in her body and crumple against him. Besides, they could both do with a hug.

Just as Hayley began to close her eyes in ease, the hands that held her waist tightly started to feel incredibly painful.

"Ha-"

"Shhhhh," whispered Harry firmly. Moving his head so that he could look into those wide innocent eyes of hers, Harry continued, "I know what it's like to want to kill your family. My father was incredibly cruel and I wished many times that he would die. Now his death has only brought out my inner darkness. You hide your dark side well, Hayley, but like me, you bare the physical scars."

Realising his intent, Hayley began trying to flee, panic filling her veins, "No! No, please, don't! DON"T!"

Readjusting one of his arms so that it now fell across the girl's shoulder blades effectively restraining her, Harry used his other hand to slowly slip underneath the hem her top at the base of her back. Her cool milky skin felt wondrous on his fingertips.

Although his caress was gentle, Hayley was too terrified to even notice. Every instinct was screaming for her to run.

Harry grunted at her nails digging into his shoulders as she scrambled for freedom. As delicately as he could his searching fingers slowly ascended.

"Please… stop!" Hayley whined quietly, the inevitability that someone would touch the most fragile part of her soul suddenly making her exhausted.

She stopped fighting – it was going to happen and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Taking her stillness as compliance, Harry moved his hand faster, the rough pads of his fingers finding their desire. He had expected her burn scars to be callous and rough like his own skin lesions. Instead, Harry found that although the flesh was distorted it was as smooth as glass. It didn't feel like skin at all but like fragile wings; although Harry only touched a small part of the scar, he had read that it covered the whole of her back.

Definitely not the skin of a monster.

He wanted to explore more. To touch this beautiful and delicate girl that was covered in her own destruction. The Goblin was egging him on but Harry stayed firm in his decision to not take things further. There'd be time for further glorious exploration when he was free.

Harry removed his inquisitive hand and held the girl with both hands on her shoulders before pushing her away from his body. She looked numb, shell shocked, though still engaged enough for Harry to deliver the final blow;

"There are monsters inside us all, doll. You know mine. And now, I know yours."

* * *

The courtroom was silent as every occupant waited nervously for the jury to return with a verdict.

Hayley was standing at the back with Peter Parker who had his camera poised in readiness for the perfect shot to use on The Daily Bugle's front page. He had been in a foul mood ever since hearing about Harry's defence lawyer starting a smear campaign against Spider-Man in court. He had no doubt that Harry enjoyed it. After hearing him lie about caring for Gwen, Peter had had to leave the room.

Deep down, the guilt for his part in Gwen's death still festered.

He needed to hold on to his good memories of Gwen, remember her hope, and keep New York's hope in him alive, just like she wanted. This thing with Harry was more than Gwen. He had to rise above his suffering and be the hope that everyone needed him to be. Spider-Man still had a duty, still had a purpose to New York's citizens, and he couldn't let his pain dominate him any longer.

So Peter would become hope; he would keep fighting and failing and living… for Gwen.

When he had saved the young boy, Jorge, and battled the Rhino, the public and police force had cheered and supported him. It would take more than some big shot lawyer to ruin Spider-Man's reputation. Peter could only hope that the jury would punish Harry for his crimes as the Goblin and not be swayed by the enigmatic lawyer.

A door of the Jury room opened with the chosen jury silently filing back to their box and taking their seats. The Foreman remained standing.

"For the charge of property negligence to the state of New York, we the jury find the defendant… Guilty," spoke the Foreman, everyone hanging onto his every word. "We sentence Mr Osborn to a year of community service in the form of charity and fundraising to repair the buildings and property that he destroyed during his battle with Spider-Man."

There were a few confused mutters.

"For the charges of involuntary manslaughter and Second-degree murder against the deceased, Gwendolyn Maxine Stacy, we find the defendant… Not guilty."

The courtroom erupted into an uncontrollable frenzy.

"ORDER! ORDER!" bellowed the Judge, "Will the jury please explain to the court the terms of Mr Osborn's release."

"With Mr Osborn's plea of insanity and incarceration at the Ravencroft institute, he has already fulfilled the mandatory clinical treatment and has now been declared sane, thus no longer posing a threat to himself or to the public," explained the Foreman.

The man licked his lips nervously before continuing, "However, we propose for Mr Osborn to undertake a two month compulsory house arrest with his health monitored daily by an already appointed outpatient physician. This physician has an extensive knowledge in the case and has the trust and compliance of Mr Osborn, who has graciously offered to pay for further training if required to aid in his healthcare."

"Is the jury willing to release this physician's name?" exclaimed one too eager reporter in the spectator's front row.

"Has the physician signed all the papers?" asked the Foreman, directing his question to Manners who nodded in response. "The chosen personal physician is one of Ravencroft's finest employees and has a First class Medical degree, a Miss Hayley Carmichael."

Reporters hurriedly scribbled the name on their notepads.

Hayley felt her blood run cold and Peter stared at her incredulously.

"This doesn't make sense Peter," Hayley hurriedly whispered, "I didn't agree to any of this, I didn't sign anyth-" She stopped in horror at remembering the papers that Manners asked her to sign.

"You make me sick," Peter hissed before leaving the courtroom.

Sinking back into her seat, Hayley felt numb. She stared down at her hands in her lap, realising that she was just a pawn in all of this. How could she have been so naive?

Hayley was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't realised that, with the verdict given, everyone had vacated the courtroom. The Judge had even left his seat and retired to his chambers – she was the only one left. The only one left, except for two smartly dressed men.

Harry grinned happily as he walked towards the redhead.

He was a free man once more... and Hayley was his.

* * *

**Bet you thought I was referring to Harry when I mentioned 'rape' in the warning!**

**I love you guys, like honestly! I know I made you wait for this one (evil me), but I just needed this chapter to be amazing and perfect for you! And I'm sorry the court stuff wasn't really in depth – I know nothing of Law, especially American Law, so I wrote as much as I could, and I hope I didn't disappoint!**

**The scene where Harry and Hayley have a confrontation and he touches her scars was taken from a dream I had right after I saw the film. That dream sparked this whole fanfic and I'm so happy to finally unveil that scene for you to read. **

**To my lovely guest who said Peter's misunderstanding attitude pisses them off – good! That's how I want him to seem, so I'm really happy you feel that way (no offence taken :D ). Peter is all sorts of messed up bless him, especially since, in my mind, he is partially responsible for Gwen's death in the film, and the guilt must be killing him. Guilt that's not properly dealt with can come out as anger and resentment – his development will be included in this fic too.**

**Everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited, followed, you are all amazing. I thank you for joining me on this journey, literally did not think anyone would read this, so I am truly thankful to ALL of you. Cannot wait to upload more chapters and keep you all on your toes! XXX LOVE**


	18. Chapter 18

**I don't own Spider-Man or any characters/plot point associated with the Marvel franchise blah blah, you know the drill - I own nothing fun!**

* * *

As he approached the bewildered girl with a predatory haze in his startling blue eyes, Harry undid his collar top button and eased his tie, adopting a confident swagger to his already poised walk; he was free.

It was an immense feeling. A feeling that he couldn't quite place, but one that had him whistling in elation. He was free to do as he pleased, to take back control of OsCorp, to plant the corrupting seeds of Project Sinister. Finally, he was free to seek revenge on Spider-Man. Sure, there would be many eyes watching his every move, just waiting for him to fuck up. However, Harry had eyes of his own stationed around New York and Manhattan, waiting to strike when the time was right.

Drawing ever closer, Harry could see that his psychiatrist was staring at the hands in her lap, mumbling the same word over and over to herself in a low voice – _idiot_. It only made his smirk widen to know that his game of chess was getting under her skin. His little precious porcelain pawn was now bound to his chessboard, and he was curious to know what her next move would be.

The two men reached the final pew of spectator seats where Hayley was sat; she didn't move or look up but did stop mumbling. Harry knew she was aware of their presence, though choosing to ignore them for as long as possible.

She probably thinks that if she ignores me that I'll go away, Harry thought, surely she knows me better than that.

"Hayley," Harry commanded, putting his hand on the back of her seat. He leaned forwards so that his body towered over hers, invading her personal space.

Still she refused to acknowledge him.

"Hayley."

Nothing.

Harry scowled in annoyance and grabbed her left arm, dragging her up out of her seat, "Don't be petulant, doll. Come, we have much to discuss."

Hayley obeyed and allowed Harry to guide her by the arm from the courthouse with Manners following close behind. She didn't really have much choice but to go with them. Having failed to read the document she'd signed, Hayley only knew what the Foreman had disclosed in court about her new role as an outpatient physician. Hayley vowed to read every inch of that document when she got her hands on it. And to reread that document, meant going with Harry.

Manners was first to the courthouse door; "Brace yourselves," he said grimly before pulling hard on the handle, yanking the oak doors open.

A sudden burst of white light flashed before Hayley's eyes making her feel disorientated. Little blanched spots clouded her vision with constant sparkling flashes replacing those pinpricks of light that quickly faded. She stumbled slightly as a mass of reporters and photographers surged forward, desperate to get the perfect snap of the newly freed Osborn.

All Hayley could hear was a sudden hubbub of loud insistent voices, asking question after question, echoing around her from all directions.

"How does it feel to be free Mr Osborn?"

"Care to tell us about the deal of the century?"

"Do you think Spider-Man _is_ responsible for Miss Stacy's death?"

"Why do you think Spider-Man would frame you like this?"

"What are going to do now Mr Osborn? What's your next step?"

"Any words for The Daily Bugle, Mr Osborn?"

"Mr Osborn?"

"Mr Osborn?"

"MR OSBORN?!"

Harry stopped advancing towards the road and away from the swarm. Instead, he decided to face the eager reporters.

"I'm sure it will not surprise you to hear that I have no comment…" Harry spoke loudly with smirk. And when the quiet journalists began to mumble in dispute, he held up his hand, silencing them enough to say; "Other than…it's good to be free."

There was an uproar of noise, to which Harry simply flipped the bangs off his face before removing Ray-Ban aviators from his jacket pocket, and placing them expertly over his amused eyes. He tried to continue on over to the waiting Osborn black limo, not the usual Sedan, that was situated by the road. However, the crowd was so riled that any type of productive movement was impossible.

Turning to Manners, Harry gave a nod, to which the lawyer took out his cell phone. Flipping it open, the lawyer pressed speed dial and barked a few words down the speaker that were inaudible over the loud crowd. Even Hayley, who was practically sandwiched between the two men, could not hear what Manners had said. She was too startled by the press to notice that Harry was still holding her arm tightly.

Peeking between the sea of heads and cameras, Hayley looked to see how close they were to their destination; they were _still_ at the top of the courthouse stone steps, flagged either side by gigantic and magnificent lion statues. How were they ever going to descend the stairs with thirty odd people surrounding them?

A rather tall cameraman stepped back for a second, allowing Hayley to see two large and burly men dressed in dark suits emerging from the waiting limo. They fought through the crowd with ease, making a beeline for their trapped client and his two associates. The pair reminded Hayley of Colin, though more refined. Both had matching silver OsCorp logo patterned ties and OsCorp pins, making their black suit and white shirt ensemble appear more expensive and official. They also had wireless earpieces glued in their left ears.

"This way Mr Osborn," came the sharp voice of the six-foot tall bodyguard, situating himself in front of Harry, ready to push away any overenthusiastic reporter that got too close. "Mr Manners, Miss Carmichael, this way."

The other bodyguard, who had black-hair, positioned himself next to Manners. The lawyer nodded a greeting and murmured "Alright Pete," before placing his cell back into his pocket. The two stood side by side making up the rear of the quintet.

With the addition of the two rather imposing bodyguards, the sought after group were able to make steady progress down the courthouse steps.

"And who are you?" squawked a female journalist, bashing into Hayley's shoulder with a notebook whilst pushing a flashing camera into her face.

The tall bodyguard, James, held his arm out quickly, blocking the inquiring female from getting any closer.

"Erm, I'm Hayl-"

In a flash, Harry pulled the redhead away from the reporter and the bodyguard's intervening arm, "Don't say anything," he hissed in a low and quiet tone. Harry moved his grip from Hayley's forearm, placing a protective and guiding arm around her shoulders. "Stay close Hayley," he warned in her ear, his tickling warm breath causing the redhead to shiver and move closer to his body

Button clicks and flashing lights doubled their attack.

Hayley was too preoccupied with the surrounding paparazzi to think about the true connotations of having her picture taken. But Harry knew. He knew that his image would be on the front page of every major newspaper and magazine in the state. Harry understood the underlying judgments people would make at seeing an image of Hayley walking from the courthouse to the Osborn limo with Harry's arm slung over her shoulders; he'd been on many a front cover to know what the media fed off of.

A speculated unethical and unprofessional romance, oh the scandal.

He and the Goblin liked chaos, and if it eventually brought Hayley closer to him, then so be it…baby steps.

They finally reached the limo. James opened the side door allowing Manners to slide in. Harry was next but at the last minute he held the top of the car door and slide his other hand down to the small of Hayley's back. Gently, he pushed her in ahead of him. The dark haired bodyguard, Pete, seeing that Harry was nearly free from the media, decided to take the opportunity to open the passenger door, sitting in front next to the chauffeur.

Before entering the limo himself, Harry turned one last time to look at the courthouse, lowering his Ray-Bans and peering over their top. He didn't pay any attention to the reporters. Instead he gazed towards the tall metal spire atop the courthouse. Harry saw Peter crouched upon the spire tip in his Spider-Man garb; he felt his ex-friend's judgemental and hate filled eyes bearing down on him.

Smirking widely, Harry finally entered the limo, with James following suit and closing the car door firmly behind them.

"Well, I think we all deserve a drink don't you?" Manners hummed happily as the limo started to move off down the road. He removed three delicate glasses from the minibar and popped the cork on a very large and expensive bottle of champagne – it had little slivers of gold leaf sparkling in the liquid.

After passing out the flute glasses, surpassing James as he was on duty, Manner's lifted his own and toasted, "To freedom!"

Harry mirrored the lawyer, draining his own glass, whilst Hayley mumbled and took a small sip in response.

After placing his glass back on the minibar shelf, Harry sat back against the luxurious leather seating, sitting much closer to Hayley than he was previously. He rested one hand on his knee and reached upwards with his right arm, smoothly placing his arm behind Hayley's neck, draping it around her shoulders. There was no nervous and unsubtly arm yawn like most teenage boys – Harry Osborn knew what he wanted and now that he was free, he could have it.

He felt the girl stiffen under his touch, so he slowly stroked her shoulder with his knuckles. Hayley relaxed slightly and sighed but then quickly downed her champagne, wrinkling her nose in disgust at its sickly sweet taste. She needed some liquid courage it seemed.

Harry took the empty flute glass from her small hands. "Do you not like champagne?" he asked whilst putting the glass on the minibar, "It is rather sweet, but the perfect customary celebration drink."

"I thought you'd prefer a White Russian," Hayley responded cynically.

She turned to finally look properly at Harry for the first time since they had left the courthouse. Then Hayley offered a sweet smile dripping with mocking under tones, knowing that Harry knew exactly what she was referring to. It probably wasn't wise to goad him, but she'd had enough of being made to look like a fool.

"Don't be sarcastic Hayley, it doesn't suit you," Harry snapped back, gripping her shoulder enough to cause her a small amount of discomfort.

The two then started bickering.

Manners relaxed into the plush limo seat and sighed heavily to himself; he thought there might be some backlash from Hayley once she realised what they'd done. Though, he was pleasantly surprised that she was verbally sassing Harry instead of him, especially since he was the one who tricked her into signing the binding document.

For now, Manners was content in watching the pair argue whilst he sipped on more victory champagne. As long as she didn't start on him…

"And you!"

Damn, Manners thought.

"You had no right in making me sign those papers without properly explaining their content to me!" Hayley seethed, waggling an accusatory finger in the lawyer's direction.

"It's not my fault you failed to read them, you can't fight with me on this Hayley, you won't win. I _am_ a lawyer," Manners countered smoothly.

Hayley looked at the man exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"I _did_ ask you if you would do anything to make sure Mr Osborn was freed," Manners reminded her, glancing over at Harry who had an uncharacteristic warm smile on his face. "And without your signature on that document, he would be back at Ravencroft."

"He would?"

Manners nodded.

"I knew I could count on you Hayley," Harry whispered in her ear, squeezing her shoulder so that her body inched even closer to his. Then he gave her a quick but firm peck on the side of her head. He could smell the raspberry scent of her shampoo on her copper locks. A tingling warmth coiled deep inside Harry and he smiled to himself before looking out the car window.

Not really knowing how to respond, Hayley also cast her eyes towards the window and watched in silence at the buildings and cars zooming past in a blur. It was only when Hayley saw the corner shop where she bought her Pot Noodles, did she realise that the limo was in down town New York.

"Erm, where are we going? Why aren't we at the Osborn manor yet?" she asked suspiciously, untangling herself from Harry's arm to get a better look out the window.

They were four blocks away from her apartment.

"What sort of person would I be if I didn't give you a lift home?" Harry said simply.

"But I thought – "

"I think we are_ all_ tired from court, don't you?" Manners interrupted as the limo came to a halt outside her apartment.

"_This_ is where you live?" Harry asked, shuffling to sit directly behind Hayley so that he too could stare at her apartment complex through the limo window.

Hayley blushed in embarrassment, "Yes. It's not much but you know, it's home I guess."

She moved away from the glass and unintentionally hit her back against Harry's chest, not realising he was so close. He felt warm and solid against her thin frame, and Hayley could feel his heart pulsing against her. The faint aroma of, no doubt, an expensive cologne ghosted to her nose as she felt herself getting lost in the comfort of being close to Harry again after so long…

Hayley quickly reached for the car door handle.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Harry commanded with a smirk as he leaned back against the leather seating. He felt a sudden emptiness to not have her in his arms, though the warm tingling where she had touched him remained.

"Yes, tomorrow" Hayley called behind her as she stepped out of the limo.

Manners leaned forward and held his hand out towards the girl, "Here's my card. Come by the office after work tomorrow and we'll take it from there." And after Hayley took his card, Manners shut the car door closed.

The limo didn't immediately move off until she had entered the building complex. All the while, Hayley could feel Harry's eyes looking intensely at her from inside the car. And he was not the only one. Many passers-by had stopped to observe the expensive car, not used to seeing such wealth in the area. Their judgemental eyes made Hayley feel very uncomfortable.

She made a mental note to never let Harry give her a lift home ever again – down town New York and wealth don't mix well.

* * *

Hayley glanced down at her watch, cursing herself because she was going to be late to work. Sleep had not come easy that night, making it extra hard for her to wake up this morning. She had even resorted to counting sheep to stop the endless thoughts of Harry invading her mind.

So being completely shattered this morning meant that Hayley had missed her usual subway connection, and the second and third because all the carriages had been full. Hayley had even tried to buy a newspaper on her way to the subway station but the corner store didn't have any. The one time she actually wanted to read the newspaper and they had all sold out! There wasn't even any spare lurking around on the subway; everyone in her carriage seemed to be reading a paper but her. Therefore Hayley pulled out her IPod and blasted some old school Metallica into her ears.

After the first three songs, she became very aware that many people in her packed carriage were staring at her, some even pointing and whispering. Hayley quickly turned down the volume on Master Of Puppets, thinking that maybe they could hear the heavy guitar rifts and insane drum beat. She didn't want people thinking she was some weird antisocial commuter. Though the staring was really starting to get on her nerves. Did she have some smudged makeup on her face?

Even with the volume on low, the whispering and gawking persisted. When the person next to her actually prodded her arm and started mouthing what she presumed to be abuse, as she still had Metallica exploding in her ears, Hayley decided that she'd had enough. She stood and walked away from the weirdo before running out of the open carriage doors – fortunately the tube had stopped at the station before her usual one, which was only six blocks away from Ravencroft instead of two. Well, she was already late and a few extra minutes weren't going to make it any worse.

When Hayley finally made it to the Nurse's Station in Ravencroft, everyone was already sitting at their desks, quietly working. No one looked up when she entered or offered their usual "hellos". Odd.

From a distance, her desk was just how she'd left it the previous day, neat and tidy. Except for a lone newspaper, folded to show the front cover top story image. That was even more odd.

Her heart fluttered inside her chest as Hayley carefully picked up the newspaper to see… her.

The Daily Bugle's top story, "Osborn Freed" was accompanied by a large coloured picture of Harry leaving the courthouse, his arm draped over Hayley's shoulders with his face turned to her, speaking in her ear. He had a charming smirk on his face and his crystal blue eyes were looking directly at her with an emotion that Hayley couldn't quite place.

Underneath their image was a sub headline "Mystery girl: Osborn's newest nurse girlfriend."

And painted directly below the title in red lipstick was the word 'Whore" in crystal clear block capitals.

Hayley felt her mouth go dry and her stomach lurch as her eyes started to sting with tears.

"Who, wrote, this?" she asked loudly, spinning around wildly to stare at her colleagues.

Becca and Cheryl both looked at each other and started sniggering behind their hands, while Nurse Cadence silently sipped on her morning coffee avoiding any direct eye contact with Hayley.

Spying that the two giggling girls were both sporting red lips, Hayley sighed heavily in anger, and rustled the graffitied newspaper in their direction; "I'll ask you again. _Who _wrote this?"

"You did," Cheryl said spitefully with a nasty grin before catching Becca's eye and dissolving into catty laughter.

"I'm sorry?"

Cheryl turned in her seat and stood to face the redhead, "I said, _you_ did, Haley."

"My name is _Hayley,_ you stupid blonde idiot!"

"Oh, I know what yourname is. Everyone in the state knows _your_ name and how much of a whore you really –"

Not wanting to hear any more, Hayley threw the scribbled newspaper at Cheryl's gloating face, and fled the room.

Becca screeched after her, "Who knew being _worthy_ was code for Osborn's personal fuck buddy…"

Rushing down corridor after corridor, Hayley noticed that just like the subway, all the other doctors and even some of the guards were staring at her and whispering. It was almost too much to handle but Hayley willed herself not to cry. She had someone to see before she lost her nerve and she could not cry in front of him. Hayley needed every ounce of courage left in her to speak with Doctor Scott.

When she entered the North wing, her heart was in her mouth and she had to swallow back the small amount of bile in her throat; it was one thing to _think _about talking with the doctor, but it was another to be in the same room as him, which they hadn't happened since court. However, Hayley knew that if she was ever going to speak her mind, it was now.

With pure adrenaline keeping her from shaking, Hayley walked as confidently as she could towards Doctor Scott, who was speaking with Doctor Poland and a few lower physicians.

"Doctor Scott, could I please have a word with you in your office?"

Not even having the decency to turn towards her, Doctor Scott waved a dismissive hand in her direction.

Hayley swallowed thickly, "Now, please."

"I have nothing more to say to you than I did in court," the doctor said shortly.

"I am not here about that," she shot back, "I want to file a report against two nurses for their bullying and down right unprofessional behaviour towards me -"

"HA!"

"I'm sorry but what is so funny about that?"

"Let's be _professional_ here - this is not the school yard Miss Carmichael, we do not tattle on our fellow workers," Doctor Scott said cruelly, finally looking at her. "Well, not unless they're engaging in an unorthodox relationship, which by this morning's front page, I was right in my assumption. Not very professional of you."

"Professional? Professional!" Hayley shouted loosing her cool, "I have a Medical degree in Psychiatry, Doctor Scott, and I have taken courses in psychology, natural sciences and the three core sciences. Not only have I been through the same training as _every_ other doctor and physician in this building, but my licence means that I am highly skilled in psychoanalysis and psychotherapy - _you_, Doctor Scott, have abused this training by hiring me as a lowly nurse and then making me use my degree to treat patients, _without _giving me a raise or promoting me to a resident and permanent Psychiatrist.

"And why? Because _you_ dismiss the practise of psychiatry so that you can do as many weird and torturous experiments as you please. You have _used _me to only treat patients that are _required _by a court of law to have psychiatric treatment. There are no female doctors in this whole institute! Instead, you belittle us and force us into positions lower than our medical standing -"

"Excus –"

"I am NOT finished," Hayley yelled, silencing the older doctor. "You, Doctor Scott, are a sexist, sadistic, megalomaniac! _That _is my _professional _diagnosis of you!"

"Don't bother coming in tomorrow," Doctor Scott snarled, "because you are fired!"

"Good! Working for you is beneath me," Hayley retorted, taking off her lab coat and slinging it to the floor in disgust. She placed her fallen handbag back onto her shoulder and stormed out of the North wing, thankful at having the final word.

She hated that man, despised him even. That pretentious bastard had it coming! Thank god she'll never have to see him again.

But when Hayley reached the foyer of Ravencroft and handed over her security pass, life suddenly became very real. Being fired meant never having to step back into the institute's haunting walls. And as she took a breath of fresh air upon exiting the building, Hayley felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders; she was free.

She turned back to get one last look at the menacing building made of cold brick and steel; it was a cage that not only housed the criminally insane, but its walls concealed the secrets of monsters. Monsters that used the darkness of man to cause chaos and destroy the very men they used as conduits. Everyone is capable of darkness for it lives inside us all. It is those who chose to act upon it that are the real monsters.

Hayley shivered and wrapped her arms tightly around her middle as the still summer air turned chilly with a sudden gust of wind. In this morning's haste she had forgotten to bring a jacket, and her thin black cardigan was a measly barrier against the cool air. She looked to the sky to see the clouds above turn dark and threatening with rain. Lingering outside Ravencroft was pointless.

Just as she was about to walk away, she caught sight of a familiar figure walking into the foyer and towards the front doors, towards her. Hayley smiled weakly as the automatic doors opened and allowed Colin to step outside before her.

" 'eared you got fired," Colin commented, stating the obvious.

"Yes. Well, it was about time I left. Especially after all…" she struggled to find the right words to explain it, "…all this."

Colin sniffed and folded his arms, "Guess ya gonna work for Osborn now. Papers say ya gonna be 'is outpatient physician or somethin'."

"That is what the court decided," Hayley said slowly, feeling like her actions were under scrutiny yet again.

"Yeah, you keep tellin' ya'self that. We both know the real story hun."

"I did _not_ sleep with him, Colin," Hayley said irritatedly through gritted teeth, "I know that everyone thinks that I did, but I didn't. And I do not appreciate _you_ questioning my morals like every goddamn person I've come across today."

Colin was silent.

"This is not about me! This is about him. And whether he is well enough to be back in society! And he is! No one believed I could make him well, NO ONE! Not even you Colin. You were my only friend in this dump, and even you believe these horrid rumours about me! And you still believe them now don't you? DON'T YOU?" she asked widely, her voice becoming hysterical now.

"Only believe what I know," Colin stated simply.

He knew what he'd seen one night; Hayley's flushed face, her lips rouged and swollen, hair a mess. Then he'd heard Harry whistling the Jeopardy tune, which the boy only did when he was mischievously happy – the prison guard could put two and two together, he wasn't stupid.

Hayley couldn't believe his attitude. "You know_ nothing_! You, out of everyone saw how he was with me, how calm I made him, how better behaved he was after our sessions. I cured him. ME! All of you doubted me; you all think I'm weak! But I'm not! I saved him when no one else would. The Goblin is gone, ok? He, is, gone!"

"I hope that's true hun, for ya sake I do," Colin spoke softly with sincerity and truthiness coating his every word.

She turned away from Colin, not wanting to look at his judgemental eyes anymore. Instead, Hayley thought about the stuff she'd left behind on her desk in her haste to leave; nothing came to mind. Her notebook with Harry's notes and case files was in her handbag like always. The only real possession left behind would be a second-hand tattered poetry book by Allen Ginsberg – luckily she had another copy at home. No, she had no ties to the institute now. Her only tie was now free – she could leave Ravencroft for good.

Nothing was holding her back.

"Goodbye Colin."

Hayley walked away, stronger than she'd ever felt in her life. But as soon as she exited Ravencroft's threshold and onto the sidewalk, doubt crept it's way into her mind.

The Goblin wasn't gone, and she knew that. It was silly to lie, however Hayley desperately wanted to believe it. Maybe with her continued help the green monster would never resurface. Maybe if she was strong enough she could eradicate Harry's dark side, his dominant and monstrous Id, before the world bore witness to the destruction his own weakness could inflict once more.

Or maybe she was just telling herself all this because there was a tiny part of her, a weak part of her, which thought that Harry could never be saved.

* * *

Harry sat in one of the many rooms in the Osborn manor penthouse. He was on his favourite comfy grey sofa with his hands on his knees, holding a glass of scotch. He was fucking bored.

It had been a long and tedious morning; he'd had a 9am meeting with the OsCorp board and Manners. No one had objected to his reinstatement as CEO, though Donald Menken looked like he'd swallowed a lemon at the news – Manners must have paid him a lot to hold his tongue. They then discussed various topics like the reconstruction of the OsCorp Power Plant, as well as media control when his position as CEO was released to the press in the coming week.

Having to wear proper clothes again, after that horrendous orange jumpsuit, was glorious. Though, he had changed out of the suit he had donned for the morning meeting. Harry was now perfectly relaxed wearing a black V-neck jersey t-shirt and his dark wash denim skinny jeans that looked almost black - it was the same outfit he'd worn the day his life went to shit.

He stared at the blue cushioned chair where Spider-Man, no, _Peter_ had sat and denied him the blood sample, sentencing him to a slow death. Harry abruptly stood and kicked over the chair at the memory. He then flopped back onto his sofa, rubbing his exhausted face with the hand that wasn't clasping the Scotch glass. Opening tired eyes, Harry saw that his empty hand was shaking.

"Fucking illness," Harry said aloud before draining the remaining amber liquid from his glass. Today, alcohol was his escape. He'd gone from one prison to another, except his childhood home was more stifling.

Nothing in this room was even his.

He didn't particularly like anything in the large room other than the numerous pieces of art that cluttered it. The animal skull with golden teeth was his favourite piece; he didn't know what animal it was but Harry didn't care too much, he only knew that it was expensive. The open plan room had a floor of pure marble, with a long granite table in the middle, which was used for meetings with the OsCorp board now that he was under house arrest. Huge ceiling high windows, which allowed him the best view of Manhattan, encased the room. The inner walls were made of smooth mahogany making the room extremely decadent and expensive in a stately home kind of way.

Harry never did know why his father gave the upstairs penthouse to him – probably so that he was out of sight.

Sitting up to refill his glass, Harry glanced at the stack of various newspapers Felicia had brought him this morning. The Daily Bugle was on top with a full-page picture taken yesterday from outside the courthouse. He picked up the paper and left the filled glass on the table beside the remaining stack. Harry saw that the front-page image was of Hayley and himself. Together.

He smiled. It was the first time he'd seen a picture of himself in a magazine that he hadn't felt disgusted by. All the times before, the snaps taken of him and models, that was all for show, part of the game. But this… Harry couldn't even begin to describe how this image made him feel.

Although Hayley looked stunned in the picture, her body was tilted towards his own whilst his arm protectively held her close. She was beautiful, the kind of awkward yet subtle beauty that could only be captured by accident on film. Her hair was blowing in the breeze, wispy copper tendrils clinging to his shoulder and neck due to their closeness. He remembered what her hair smelt like in the limo.

He remembered the first time he saw her, scared and alert with a syringe in her hand. She had touched him. Boldly touched his skin when no one else would. It had calmed him instantly, though he didn't know why. Her green eyes had entranced his own, because Harry saw a glimpse of something familiar. He'd seen himself reflected back.

Harry gazed back to The Daily Bugle in his hand, and could see that his own documented eyes were sparkling as he whispered in her ear, though he couldn't remember what he had said. They were twinkling with an emotion he didn't recognise, that he'd never seen in himself.

It reminded him of a framed picture he'd discovered the night before he left for boarding school. A young Harry was trying to find a photograph of his late mother to pack in his suitcase; there weren't many around the manor as his father kept them all in his bedroom. Norman Osborn was late coming home from work as usual, so Harry snuck into his room. That was when he discovered the picture.

His parents were standing together, his father's arm slung around his mother's slim waist. They were at some charity ball or benefit dinner because they were both in black tie dress. Norman was staring down lovingly at his sweetheart wife, Emily, who looked stunning in a draped neck onyx floor-length gown. She even wore an expensive Swarovski necklace with green glistening stones. They were the epitome of upper-class perfection.

What caught Harry's interest was not only how beautiful his mother had been, but also the emotion in his father's eyes – he had never seen that look before.

It was like looking at a stranger.

His father had caught him red-handed, throwing him out of his bedroom, a place he was not allowed to enter. Harry never saw the photograph again.

Harry shook his head to remove the painful memories, simultaneously flipping away the bangs that had covered his eyes again. Although the newspaper's image was no doubt suggestive to the public, to Harry they both looked effortless, almost calm among the chaos of the paparazzi. Perfect and uncomplicated.

And yet, they weren't anything _but _complicated.

In the five months of knowing her, he had broken Hayley's fingers, scared her, threatened her, manipulated her, put her job in jeopardy and her medical license under scrutiny, intimately touched her scars, and called her a monster. He had even killed a man for her. All because he found her hypnotically interesting for some unknown reason.

Why did she keep coming back?

Everyone had left him, but not Hayley. Was it because she was as flawed and as fucked up as he? But he had said to Peter that he didn't do "complicated".

Sure, there was Felicia, his stunning and uncomplicated assistant. There had been a spark once when they first met, he couldn't deny it. Felicia had helped him when he became CEO, she had told him about Special Projects, and at times, even seemed concerned about him– but it wasn't enough

There was something binding in having someone see you at your worst, at your weakest, and have them not run away. Peter had rejected him at his worst, rejected his weakness, because as Spider-Man, his old friend was genetically superior to he. Parker had strength above mankind and was selfish in betraying Harry when he had needed his friend the most.

Hayley hadn't done this. She had surpassed all his expectations of what a friend should be. But what did that mean? Harry just couldn't understand, could not process it all in his alcohol-numbed mind.

Whatever spell she had cast on him, Harry still had the sense to know that being rat-assed drunk when Hayley arrived this afternoon was not a good idea. So he lay back on the sofa, newspaper still in his hand, and closed his eyes. He hoped that whatever his dreams might be, that she be in them.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone for all your love and support, it means the world to me. Also, thanks for the constructive criticism; I do really appreciate it and when I receive it, I try to take a step back from my writing, think, and work on what you've suggested or picked up on. So, I hope that shows.**

**To my lovely guest Ainsley, I hope this chap answers your question about Harry's feelings – he has them, it's just going to take a little while longer for our boy to realise it's not about control. **

**And also to one of my Guests, I agree that it is unprofessional to treat a patient you have a connection with, especially in the case of Erotic Transference, but sometimes you can't help who you fall for – I hope this chapter explains away the other concerns you had regarding her training and ability to treat Harry. And I apologise if Hayley is "on the gate way of mary sue land" – that thought terrifies me! I hope that's not the case! I try to make Hayley as real as possible, and that means she is flawed and a tad emotionally unstable – I write what I know. There is always a reason, even if it is not clear at the time, to how I write her – she needs to hit rock bottom before building herself up for character development.**

**Also, thanks guys for pointing out some of my mistakes in the previous chap – I went back and amended them all – note to self; never proofread and post a chap at 2am!**

**If you've bought TASM2 dvd, have you guys watched the deleted scenes? The one called 'Peter visits Harry', I totally think they should have included this; it does wonders for Harry's character development with Peter! **

**Much Love XXX as always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome – MORE HAYLEY AND HARRY TIME next chap! :)**


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